Call me pack horse
Call me living dream
Call me quiet strange lady
Sitting a cross from me on the train
Call me a liar.
She wasn’t strange at all
Actually quite nice.
But she did refer to herself as short.
Giant cranes swing their
Giant steely beaks
Through the air
Slicing through a Shepard pie sky
Dousing the clouds in a thick
Warm industrial gravy
I hear tale of an old model ship
That hasen’t been dusted
For a many many years
For fear that the chosen janitor
Be struck down dead
just like the last several in the past
Love is a test that you never fail
Stop trying to memorize
Start fighting bees
Pumping things up to win
Lambs on the prairie drinking cider
Waving at a bullet as it passes by
Is there a doorman at the gates of hell
Checking OD’s ?
Measuring the with of you sores
No shortage of green pastures around here
No shortage of rain
The rain comes and then it goes
Just like the sun