My ghost drives around with a bag of dead fish. Falling neutrinos drift through the trees. He staggers and reels, runs up credit card bills. And clogs up the toilet with bottles of pills.
We came in this world together. Legs wrapped around each other. My cheek against my sister's. We were born like tangled vine. . We lived along the river.
Last night I went out walking. Out on the edge of town. Not going no place special. Only wandering around. . I came upon a river. I thought about what you said.
If the world should end in fire. The oceans boiling into flame. I will watch the last sunrise. And think of all the sunny days. . When the mystery of the skies.
If the world should end in fire. The oceans boiling into flame. I will watch the last sunrise. And think of all the sunny days. . When the mystery of the skies.
Out in the red rock desert. Sitting on the roof of my car. Drinking cans of warm beer. Watching the sky get dark. . Gail and I shot our empties. With an old rusted rifle.
Last night, I went out walking. Out on the edge of town. Not going no place special. Only wandering around. . I came upon a river. I thought about what you said.
From the dusty mesa. Her looming shadow grows. Hidden in the branches of the poison creosote. She twines her spines up slowly. Towards the boiling sun.
We came down a black dirt hill. Between the rows of blooming peaches. And we scattered leaping fawns. As we fell into the ditches. . Ahead of me ran Jackson.
It's four in the morning, the end of December. I write you now just to see if you're better. New York is cold but I like where I'm living. There's music on Clinton Street all through the evening.
Old Enoch, he lived to be. Three-hundred and sixty-five. When the lord came and took him. Back to heaven alive. . I saw, I saw the light come shining.
Down in the valley of hollow logs. Two lovers lay in the weeds. Safe in the net of their sweaty arms. Safe from the wind in the trees. . My love, said the boy, you're the clear blue sky.
The Cathedral in Cologne looks like a spaceship. Like the hand of God falling from the sky. A thousand stone-carved saints hang like icicles. But icicles don't take hundred years to die.
I am not afraid when you call me down. Down the basement steps under the house. Down, down in the ground. . Black cows are limping, the white dogs bark.
Down that foggy road. Slow centipedes crawl. Plum blackberries fall. And the ground is dark as blood. . Down that foggy road. The moon burns red as flame.
Lisa heard a whisper in her computer screen. And in the sad laser flicker of the xerox machine. Out the tinted windows, a car sped silently. And everything was quiet, everything was clean.
Late, late at night. Twenty-four hour store. Ghosts fly up the aisles, across the shining floor. Opening and closing automatic doors. . Hands waving mirrors.
The best days are the hardest days. The strongest people fight their way to the finish line. Pressure has a funny way. Of leaning on the stone until a diamond shines.
1, 2, a-1 2 3 4. . There will be a jubilee. Oh my lord oh my lord. There will be a jubilee. When the children all go free. Yeah they'll lay down their swords.
Sometimes I don't even know where this dirty road is taking me. Sometimes I don't even know the reasons why. I guess I'll keep a-ramblin'. Lots of booze and lots of gamblin'.