Rose Hips

The streets are like the ocean
In that the water fills their brims
And your head is just the same thing
If it fills a hat with tears
With the reasons we get
And the gifts we accept
And the promise we request
The promise isn't half
Of something to wrestle with
Golden gardens and pussing lips

Rose hips
And bullwhips

And there ain't no one to talk to
And you can't talk at all
As you're sleeping as a baby
As you see you lurking somebody
On the cliff or on the edge
Or on the way into the hedge
It's a murky time to rest
In times, crooked to attest
The supple cup of blood
Or an undone vein of mud

Well, I'll be one to take your promise
To the beach or by the way
Of the dreams that pass before us
Or the murderous journey towards
Some ideal that's an ovation
For sleeping on a stone
Or being in your death bed
Or seeing that your blood rests
On the bottom of the canyon
In the morning