Rosebud Bullets

When we landed was it snowing
The wind was it blowing
Birds curled into balls
Tourists all flown off to where they were going
And you all curled up on your thoughts

We took the wrong turn
Took the wrong exit
Went the wrong way down the highway next
And when we alit it was just for a minute
The edge of that cliff we dared not look over it at all

Rosebud bullets run straight to the bone
Roseblood spilling like wine
Rosewater rivers run from my eves in the mean
In the mean in the mean time

So this winter when I left the city
I didn’t let it slip by
And I had a taste of the truth and the waste of it
And spit in the face of the wise

And now a black mood is apon me
I’ll sit in mourning awhile
For the truth comes and goes
Like a traveling show
But the blame sleeps with me every night

Winter 2001
New Orleans