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Okkervil River
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Baby's ball is all blood red like slayed pigs
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and silk soft little things
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fill a house hung from strings
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and I fly out on my silver, scissoring wings
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(with the other sardines)
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over cities of things mommies need --
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light as gas, and half-assedly free,
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like I was in nineteen ninety three.
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Over the ruins like we're staggering apes.
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What we get is what we take
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in a split open place where a man can get kinged
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in a palace of panic and flames
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where nobody gets blamed by the tired,
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and broke down, and beat. In sunken gardens
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where there was a street.
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West over water I rambled and paced,
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and the blood river raced like the sweat down my face.
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And the stadium roared. And the warriors embraced.
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And the golden shore groaned
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beneath the weight of my tastes. And I blazed
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in the last orange hours of the day,
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until the dust hazed and hid us away.
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So, little baby, be brave.
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I see your dad riding over the rise,
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crashing his whole cavalcade through the crowd.
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Watch them run on all sides.
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And the neon white branches,
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and the carrion fly
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on a congressman's eye
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I have wrapped up for you in some old autumn leaves,
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and left under a rock out on Rockaway Beach,
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beneath the trees.
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I have laughed my best hiss to the whistling breeze.
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There's a hole in my throat.
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You can note my last wheeze if you need.
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And then take hold of the rope
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and down we scream.
okkervil river-westfall lyrics
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