A Song For Ernest Hemingway

The sky goes from concrete to charcoal

I'm laying on my back on the roof

Gonna shoot these clouds full of holes

I need some fucking light to pour through

'Cause December's got me up against the ropes

And I don't know how to get loose

I can't get feeling back in my toes

From walking in circles with you

Like we're lost Canadian geese

I should be south of here already

I'll be your dead bird, you'll be my bloodhound

You're just doing what you're told

Pick my body off the ground

I'll be your dead bird...

I'm staring at Hemingway's shotgun

And I'll picture him drinking alone

He's forgetting things that he wouldn't have before

His eyes are starting to go

And I heard all about how his plane went down

After Christmas in the Congo

Read about his own death in the paper

I bet it was freeing to know

When you destroy everything worth chasing

There's nowhere left to go

I'll be your dead bird, you'll be my bloodhound

You're just doing what you're told

Pick my body off the ground

I'll be your dead bird

Hanging from your mouth

You're doing like you're told

Gonna make your master proud

It's good to know

I didn't die for nothing

December’s got me backed into a corner again

My ears are back, my teeth are showing

I'm combing through the wreckage trying to find where I've been

I still get phantom pains, but from a safer distance

I'll be your dead bird, you'll be my bloodhound

You're just doing what you're told

Pick my body off the ground

I'll be your dead bird

Hanging from your mouth

You're doing like you're told

Gonna make your master proud

It's good to know

I didn’t die for nothing

December's got me backed into a corner again

My ears are back

(I didn't die for nothing)

My teeth are showing

I'm combing through the wreckage trying to find where I've been

I still get phantom pains

I didn't die for nothing