Underneath us all is a blues core
those penny standards we drip feed
tastes of originality scrubbing decks
When on the ropes we skipped sipping
back on Japanese Black tea.
your miss the days when cadaver chased
the waves Send my love to cemetery’s.
Biggest clock brothel custodian of mohair
Coat established the commune of new names
Since the first invaders saw the salt line
the transported danced the rope lines
out of towns.