Oh Damn!

i was even not there when
but
they said i'd been

the Truth of the Story is;
small people are dyin' insane
bigger people are livin' in extazy
or
cocain
or
sex under slit or rain
but
we all know the dark line of the night
you may call it Skyline
i call it Zip
as Newmann
(he knew the stanzas of sufferin')
or U may call it paradise

oh i'm a lonesome singer
on a caboose of a train
harpin' blues of moonlight
with a secret to unreveal
i say it no delight

they shot the negro once
they piss then twice
the rulers of the road
see no justify
cause you are in nowhere
you are on in your moan
that's all it is to say
boys go back home

So you harp in E minor
up
down
red light
yellow distant ocean
in a vast long lonely night

(he said that, the old capoed man, teeth like rock. lips like lime....)

OH Help me in my knowledge of the things 're gonna be...cause i'me just a soul lost in this pledge
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art by Olga Rozanova