Blackfly Rag Paroles

of my lost love, coming to you
like a searchlight cutting in the room

but it’s alright now, was a little uneasy
the sun of your hair, the colour of crow
and your wide eyes, bare and drawn
and the black flies over your head

but it’s alright now
now that you’re dead, you don’t need no one
now that you’re dead, you can get by fine on buttered bread
and get right now without a man in your bed
who will dry you off like a discount coat
put you down, over and over
how i know, caught in the branches
outside your room, where you took your chances
and slipped your shoes, tipped your hat
wrought to the sea on a devil’s back
with a thunderclap
and just like that you were free as the night sky covering you
when you lay yourself, down to rest
and pledge the lord, the hole in your head
that you carved out with a grinning blade
and filled with bubblegum lemonade
oh, me oh my, me oh my
i got chalk for bones in both of my hands
when i put my fingers to your chin
and beg your teeth to let me in
to your eyes and mouth, the art of space
from all right angles in your face
and if i weren’t so goddamn chaste, i’d be free