What else have you got here, moon?
I’m tired of this country stuff
I hope you can be by soon, winking at my little face
Hold it there, in case I miss it,
Beaming at this waste of a world
What else have you got here, moon?
It’s what I was listening for
when something real important happened
Beating down the door, barging in
Here is the metal dawn,
peeping at your tilted chin before the window
Weeping though my heart’s not in it
Keep the buzzing tubes from creeping in
I was covered in crack-dust down in Birmingham,
Singing ‘have you got this, moon?’
I was getting my ass kicked out at Mammoth Lake
By a grouchy Nazi cartoon
So that my stomach isn’t hanging in my throat
I sure do hate that feeling,
and it’s such a part of everything I know
These are all carry-ons
This is the smell of three days worth of healing
I try to spare the bag-man’s feelings,
at least contrive a wink for each of them
You know, I’m working with one eye and a blown out tire,
Singing, ‘Have you got this kid?’
‘You don’t have the courage for the holy fire,
the way you said you did’
‘So just keep your mouth shut.’