|
I saw a crow, feeding a crow |
|
A small scrap of metal from a toilet hole |
|
I've seen the birds, circling your big Southern eyes |
|
What could they want, it's no big surprise |
|
I've seen the birds parting your cracked country mouth |
|
There's no wonder my love what this is about |
|
Our nature's a monster, we pull and we pry |
|
What will you find? |
|
A crowbar, a hammer, a delicate word |
|
Will open the door to the scavenger bird |
|
Accept no presents for each is a lie |
|
Whose depth you will know by the strength of the shine |
|
The ring on your finger it ain't worth the change |
|
You send down the wishing well, bring me some rain |
|
The fields have gone dry, blackbirds are starving for love |
|
Of any old kind |
|
Run your long fingers through the powdered earth |
|
It's you who brings the rain |
|
I saw a crow with the cock of his head |
|
He solved a great puzzle and hustled for bread |
|
A crowbar, a hammer, a delicate word |
|
Opens the door to the scavenger bird |