Tonight Matthew, I am a cold blue star
With my lips upon the table
These very lips upon the table
A river of licks, dribble and saliva
Hawking spit, selling where able
It is in the dirt they find me boy
It is in the dirty pages find me
It is in the dirt they find me boy
It is in the dirty pages find me
This trumpet without the bell
This bell without the mouth
Still it knells, sans mouth, knells
Take that and this and that
Like so and so and so
No matter how furiously you beat the horse
The horse will not be drove, you stay the reins
You crack and whip your will, beat a course
But you will remain
Oh Peter head in the mountain
Oh Peter mountain in your head
May you look on your wounds and tremble
Be humbled by the loudness of the dead
I am a maiden in this foreign land
I have the breath of spring in me
And there came such times of violence
So I lay my head down upon the fence
And I lay my feet down upon the fence
I lay like that upon the fence
As war raged, no side claimed me
I lay like that and oozed out sense
