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20061123 - They Will Adjust

from The Song Diary I by Paleo

/

lyrics

THEY WILL ADJUST

My lover's eyes.
My lover's eyes.
Watery graves.
My sunken treasures.
They will adjust.
They will adjust.
Collapse in tears,
wells full of water.
Eye for an eye
and round for round,
I stare her cold, black barrels down.

This four-leaf day.
This four-leaf dayleaf.
Our broth of fate
we gave to strangers.
Long live the king.
Long live the king.
The ripe old age
of Mississippi.
Indian blood.
Indian blood.
The rivers sing with Indian lungs.

Gooseberry breath.
Gooseberry breathing.
Red is a moon
of pomegranate,
sewing the seeds,
seedlings of seasons.
Do not look back.
There are no reasons.
Kill or be killed.
Kill or be killed.
I take my time.
I face my money.
Ginger and kale.
Ginger and kale.
This gypsy soup.
White as an onion.
Seasoned with smile.
Seasoned with smiling.
My crowded mouth
in coriander.
Bombs in the mail.
Love on the run.
My love has one eighth Indian blood.


DAS - Brooklyn, New York, USA

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from The Song Diary I, released April 15, 2007

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Paleo Portland, Oregon

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