Woolen Heirs

He, he sinks in the ground
On these streets of 11th and Howell
May he run down blocks and city halls
Drank by city folks and shivering crows, to make this right
All the way down to the Sound

You'll be a sound mite, and I'll be your roe
And all of those blood types become the sow

He, he sold one leg
To a mite on the corner of 11th and Howell
So he could run down the throats
Of any folks that he cared to choke
In shivering clothes, to make this right

You'll be a sound mite, and I'll be your roe
And all those blood types become the sow

Teeth jangling like lights supporting the whole thing
They dance, they spin, they fall
Gelatin rain

For the second embrace
Opening eyes erases
All sound