|Moon-Howling in Mid-Air|
Preacher bird grabs a twig branch
pumps up and down for a routine dance
phantom thoughts upon his skull
dying to score a fortune roll
but the tips of his voice are torn and sharp with whiskey.
Death comes easy to those with flaw
where the devil will easy hook his claw
who stands between every two-man draw
with rabbits whiskers of twigs and straws,
there's no glass stuck in your craw
if you're just eating pudding.
Aboard toy planes that rise and fall
people shops and shopping malls
human skin stapled against the wall
hold dead shadows to bathroom stalls
if you've misplaced your identity, call
Saint Peter and Joseph swing outside the law
but if it's a dollar bill you're safe from crashing.
Infant blood on the sidewalk red
came out from a hole in a little boy's head
uncles and aunts with mud in their hair
didn't mean to give a midnight scare,
just pulled him away when they felt him there,
soiled his shorts when he didn't dare,
saved the things that most wouldn't care,
sold the wares of shame and despair,
kept him away from breathing their air
beat him for sniffing their underwear
"call us criminals and all becomes fair
but he just wasn't so heavy."
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