Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Suckerfish Blues

christmas got dropped
to the side of the road
you can tell from the pile of bones
the kitchen got no working lights
the law is hard
& the movement is right
bread is bread
lies are lies
the moon is buried up in the sky
o Father Fear
i'm feelin the fictions
the end is near
each sin convicted
the gray has grown
into hills of hurt
no one can solve the dirt

Suckerfish Blues

Oh I got em.

every sin convicted
except a lack of faith

for some reason I been Thinking about him the past couple days

"I, John Brown am now quite certain that the crimes of this guilty land will never be purged away but with blood."

Jack showed me this one last night,
but I didn't take it as seriously as maybe you'd wanted me to,
because I was too too busy seeing how warm you were
and that you had soft things around your fingertips,
stuff that talked about muffins for madmen,
pie for the lonely nights and eating dreams.
I know you eat with me.

I will put the suckerfish straight down into the mud
and all we'll hear is
the sloopy sound of his giant suckery lips going sluurp!
You know, like when your boot is going in.

o my - well, I never wear boots when dealing with mud - I take them off, socks too, & go barefoot -
squish squish up between my toes !

you might think this frivolous of me but it's entirely practical I assure you.

No, I know it's truly the experience with boots off, socks forgotten and feet in mud.
Plus, I like it too, because it makes me have all sorts of thoughts about how ducks walk and what things get to sinking in the mud
that I could delightfully dig up.