twas seven twenty
on a thursday night
ma was in the ground
pa was inside
and i
was sitting crosslegged
sipping dark chardonnay
with a dead fly
in it
feeling high on fumes of
citronella candles
while the horizon
turned to rust
and huckleberry stains
and so did my feet
and the dirt smelled the same
come to think of it
but i didn't see nothing
i'd already seen it all
that's how i
broke out
of the hoosegow
that's why i'm
freer than the flies
that can't bother me
(i never saw a ****** thing)