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These Arms Are Snakes
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Woolen Heirs
He, he sinks in the ground on these streets of Eleventh and Howell
May he run down blocks of city halls (to be) drank by city folks
And shivering crows to make this right
All the way down to the sound
You'll be a sound mite and I'll be your roe
And all of those blood types become the sow
He (said) he sold one leg to a mite on the corner of Eleventh and Howell
So he could run down the throats of any folks that he dared to choke
(To be done) in shivering clothes to make this right
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You'll be a sound mite and I'll be your roe
And all of those blood types become the sow
Teeth jangling lie like lights supporting the whole thing
They dance, they spit, they fall, gelatin rain
For the second embrace
Opening eyes erases all sound
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