There’s an old hound been hollerin’
Just outside my back door
Don’t got nothin’ for it
For I just ate my last meal
Cooked my beans on an open fire
That keeps sufferin’ to keep me warm.
Mighty hard to keep me warm
If I had more sense about me
I’d have opened up my back door
All I need is a little lovin’
A woman that keeps me warm
If I’d opened up my back door
But now it keeps gettin’ colder
So I’ll be movin’ on.
Tag: hound
My Fire (day 2725)
I’m not singing for my lungs
Though they burn with desire,
No, the sweetness has left me hoarse
That burns like whipping dirt
Blowing about this barren desert.
It used to come in fits
Where I’d collapse in imagined euphoria
I had never before experienced.
My dreams lay me still here,
Though I cry out
With the neighbours howling hound,
As singing awaits
Within the embers of my soul
My fire remain unconvinced
That this landscape
Deserves such escape.