Sheriff, father, constipate,
Stabs my donkey at his gate,
Rolls his entrails out to dust,
Pounds a tamp upon my lust.
Bone on the meadow, my tooth was a sinner
For raising a donkey not on the law.
Sheriff is grinding an axe on his wheel,
As he eyes on my donkey to settle up.
Pain is a magical spell under cumin,
The state has the power to revenize.
Bone on the meadow, my tooth was a sinner for
Sewing a jick, or to fornicar.
Donkey dead and ghost afraid,
I will summon what you made.
Though your neck is spayed and frayed,
Sons and daughters storm the stage.
Donk lives on in magic;
Son lives on in magic;
Daugh lives on in magic;
Ter lives on in magic.
from Soft Wings,
released March 20, 2012
w/ Jess Green