Keel

The propheteer The prophet's here Only 'til August Bearing down into the grass, down into the grass for me The prophet's come The prophet's good and stung Gobbled up on cable wires Dangling low and above the fires They won't work out like the lovely ones High wires That bring the heathens out for a fight Ergo sum The game's grown young There's a danger now in the town below And the hobble of gawker's look across onto the road There's a tazor And a brave young one Spilling fiber like you, son And the cherry pouts your lungs Just stay here Just stay here just loving me Or just stop bloody loving me See now Sweep behind the gauzy curtain High rise High and wild I pick at you, my limestone When you fiddle with your red stone What are you without your flint then, sonny? Can't count out your only lie Can't you cap out your only lie Sitting fore Keel... Not before I was in front Of the pekid fountain The whole time