village trustee

1,2,3,4

I want more.

5,6,7,3

bless your soul
come to me

in the trenches of Istabul
the man learns to write
he's given a gun and a priest blessed him right
the warden in the gallows
doing the executioners job
writing self-poetry
to make the night young

she whispers softly
she dances in the parade
whippersnapper baby
come to daddy
he promises, he'll stop the pain

1,2,3,4

don't you look at me

5,6,7,3

live your life, don't matter me

bless your soul
come to me

that little man got out of the trenches
got himself a good paying job
watching crossing guards pick their nose
see what kinda gold they got

the fever judges a million
the flu does nothing right
for her parade has started
speaking words of hastened night
the wolf howls, lonely as can be
speaking to the moon, ain't it right

there's the alter boy with complications
he's huffing puffing all night
doctor says the medications useless
that boy knows whats right
in the night of the sickness
he stands up and fights
feverish and getting the pox

1,2,3,4,

handcuffed to a motel bed

5,6,7,3

wandering in the sleep

bless your soul
come to me

this party has just begun
the man he writes a letter
puts in my mailbox large
it says don't come back to Mooney, baby
get outta this place while you can

the alter boy coughs on the bible
looking out the window to god
he prays a million Hail Mary's
maybe putting his faith on a ledge
if god can't save me lotus
then I wish for a quick death

the writer writes a note to this child
he bold everything in some font
the letter reads something like this or that
the boy has a change of heart and spirit
the letter he burns after reading
hell, the alter boy will be alright

the writer leaves notes in town
best thing ever seen since 1912
now the man he flees in the darkness
his job is most humbly done
that man haunts the city
with a cloak and a homemade pen

1,2,3,4

everybody safe in the city

5,6,7,3,

that boy will be alright

bless your soul
come to me

was what that letter read.