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The smoke from the battle fish and the rain soaked through |
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and the wheelman left the shore |
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and barns tumbled and silos flew across fifteen miles bad road tar |
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And big Bull Trometer hung on to the side |
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and the pig dogs trembled on Spidey's wild ride |
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And big John Jizom from downtown Chizom |
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flew away with old mrs. Storm |
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And they found Bird Lundy neath a keg of nails crooked as a dog's hind leg |
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Keeping warm after twenty-nine days on hard assed bread |
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he drilled to the big outside and clung like a tick to his waterfront |
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life mooned and clouded, blued and skied |
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And all the clocks blew up on Spidey's wild ride |
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And the hills stood up in a great big 3 |
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and left me whipped by the forces that were inside me |
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Loud as the ocean, cold as a desk, red as the water on the river of flesh |
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And he was sewing up his pants while he was shoeing a mule |
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And he was bucking a head wind gale |
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But the crooked ass beauty was trapped to the side |
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and he shook on Spidey's wild ride |
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And all the statue ass makers, and the uprooted trees |
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And I shouted way up to where the rabbit digs his hole |
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and the wheelman, the jockeys the landlords and thee |
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were bucking a head wind south |
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and with nine lives spent, he landed on his rent |
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composed with a steele head salmon in his mouth |
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and I never did see another day outside |
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cause I'd had enough travel on Spidey's wild ride |
