Saturday, June 23, 2007


that old sun done gone back, little baby
orange, all frilled up in red, hot
it makes me hop
cause this concrete street's no good
but for cooking
and my feet's bare
making little shuffles, bops
straffin' with the briars, with the
sandspurs, with the shells
thrown out from the sea
broken, sharp and angry

i'm crissed and crossed with cuts
bloodied like them war boys
running, howling and given over
some eat the lust full time
some drink the dark out from the day
so here i am

at least i got a place to lean
a place where money sings, little baby
just watch for eyes gone out from home
shaking down the neighbor boys
no don't think your quarters buy you time
your pockets heavy with some nickels
don't buy you sweets and smooches
so watch those eyes

i'm the favorite here, you think i'm
all forgot, you think i may be sillied
drink up your summery sun but if you
stare, if you get the glimmers
you can be lost
come, little baby, we might get the
blues, oh sugar my back's done raw
this is some poor life and
i'm jumping in the fire


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