The Lake, Pt. 1

The bird in my belly is singing 'bout taxes
While my aunt Sue-Ellen is sleeping with crosses
I change my body to all that surrounds me
Like a bass in the underbrush, thrashing and twisting

The froth on the shoreline reminding me always
Of habits that settle like deer on the highway
I've plenty of memories, not many keepsakes
I paid for my passage, I leave on a Tuesday

The trestle in town is an old place to swim
If you keep your ears open
You'll hear uncle Jim holler
Lady who bring me a drink
He's always stuttered
And eyes always blink
Lady my wife is a lamb
His hand starts to mimic the birds on the wires

The fishing is good when the water is cold
By the store on the East bank where liquor is sold
Laura and Brenda are dreaming of horses
They wake and shatter the air with their noises saying
Lady who lives in the forest
Emerge from the woods and bring me your voice
Lady who lives in the lake
Arise from the water and bring me a drink