Long Description: Everything I've Ever Loved Is Dead, Blues Music, Delta Blues, music library, music licensing and company music
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Take a look at these graveyard hands;
I've been stooping my back since before I could stand.
Keeping headstones clean & crypt flowers fresh
& shoveling up the remains has gave me knots for flesh.
My time I've seen my share of ghosts _____
'Specially souls lost at sea float between the coasts,
It's like they conduct water same as electricity _____
But I've never had so many walk up to me.
All the souls rose up when the floods went down
Like skeeters from a drained swampground,
But this last storm blew in a pestilence
& now there's predators in among the penitents
& when nightfall comes, these darker shades
Move across the deep like swarms of lampreys;
They get larger numbers with each expedition
& these suckers hate competition.
So pour the wine on all the graves & toss the bottles in the lake:
Some to mourn, some to honor & some to libate.
My job keeps 'em at bay & fed,
'Cause everything I've ever loved is dead.
Don't it look like Luther's panning for gold
Over at Lafayette & Camp with that old colander bowl?
He's been fishing for crawdads since he almost drowned;
Now he's pale as palm fronds & can't keep nothing down.
His pupils fixing on their own with desire
At the inner thighs & neck napes of the passersby.
But innertubes & beercans all he ever finds,
& those strange fish that smell like blood & brine,
& also mussels & a garlic press,
Several thumbs & pieces for playing chess,
A woman's leg still snugly in its shoe,
& a mess of stock pots for stew,
& a couple hundred girls' ghosts in with the bottles of Pernod,
Dumped near Juarez, Mexico.
They made their way up with stunned regard
Holding pristine loteria cards.
I pour the wine on all the graves & toss the bottles in the lake:
& some of them look hungry even after they just ate,
The ones who licked their lips & said,
"Now everything I've ever loved is dead,
Now everything I used to love is dead."
Take a look at this wine-soaked sand;
We've been tearing up the soil since Cain raised a hand,
I sleep on top of these vaults to keep dry at night
While Air Force One passes by like the Good Levite.
Sometimes they kill you for your blood or your stuff;
Sometimes they make you feel guilty for not dying fast enough;
Sometimes they just leave you alone so you can't call it assault,
But when you're sinking under breakers, it's the same result.
& to prove my point, here come more pilgrims,
On coffin ships from Black '47,
Lost in transit, whole families of shades
Thin like a set of Keris blades
But I didn't spend my whole life burying 'em right
Just to watch 'em dig themselves up every night.
& besides, who needs a caretaker around
When this whole damn town is a graveyard now?
& I guess before I go . . .
I'll pour the wine on all the graves & toss the bottles to the side:
It's just you & me, Lord, holding back the tide.
It's my last stoup of red:
The only city I've ever loved is dead.