Black plums, getting fatter every summer
Half us in the cabinet, getting sadder every upper
Classic outdoorsmen, scratching panic on the cave walls
Strays out front, but, plums like baseballs
Plucked from the arms of the earth, hell fire at the school
How are you on about some garden dessert?
I'm in the cradle of craters, same as your boot in the trench
Defending everything from something, plum juice on my chin
Good in whatever, the newest abandoned shoe in his web
They hit that sticky thread, a sled into a foot of cement
For every bullet I have caught in my teeth
I earn the privilege of a trip be in awe of the tree
A hundred years in the future, I bet some photo exists
Of some historic moment happening somewhere close to the crib
Maybe some heavenly zealot yelling and wielding a piece
And there I am in the back, enjoying that seasonal treat
Oblivious and doing my version of smelling a rose
Stupid look on my face, I am never in vogue
I was probably in my head about the essence of hope
Taking a second to effectively connect with the whole
Look, ever since a kid, invisibility important
I been dipping out the lobby, body painted brick and mortar
Tryin' to pick up on a pattern in the numbers
Like, black plums getting fatter every summer
I'm a particle, a minute quantity of matter
The least possible amount of data
I'm a passenger, a rogue AWOL from the chorus
In a field, something dark at the wheel, I'm ultimately a tourist
Panic invictus, damage all indexed
Granted, there is no real standardized litmus
One man's damage is part of another's rituals
Pick one, hindsight or eyes like pinwheels
Well, acceleration's only half the magic
When there's looking like you're doing sixty, doing five in traffic
The county's slowest roller, half the time I'm going backwards
How I'm always there before you ain't a scientific matter
If you pick a lane, see if you could be the truth
For thirty seconds, turn the shortcut to the scenic route
Piece of cake, show me what your godspeed reads like
Olives by the river under osprey in obscene light
Black plums getting fatter in the meantime
A/B 'em with a different time, sweet time
How it both beefed-up and yet refined
Even hyenas seen reaching for the tree-line
Lions turn vegan, carnivores tend to the plants
Vampires make jellies and jams
It's a pillar of the still life, steady the hand
Land the pit a couple inches from your head in the sand
Act one, wait for the sun, act two, same with the water
Act three is the summoning of the mother
Out to counter any blood pressure upper one could suffer
Black plums, pie crust, flour, sugar, butter, I'm a
I'm a particle, a minute quantity of matter
The least possible amount of data
I'm a passenger, a rogue AWOL from the chorus
In a field, something dark at the wheel, I'm ultimately a tourist
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