| The Steeplejack | | Print | |
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Boiled on a rooftop, Steeplejack, saw as the sky was unfurled Caught up in a blind man’s gambit, trying to see a better man’s world Wire mesh pushcart living, a tabernacled sideshow hack Slept like a black vine weevil playing possum in a cul-de-sac
Oh but I know there’s something in me that wants to grow old But I just can’t seem to climb my way back on up again And I never want to find out, Find out just how Just how far I can How far I can… Fall
Sang in a chainsaw choir, played a bit of five to ten Rooked marks in a three-card ballet, it got me sent back up again Killed time in a bawdyhouse lean-to, paid for every single woman I loved Stole alms from a Lady chapel poor box, told me not to push so I shoved
And I’d do it again, if I thought it would turn out different this time But I just can’t seem to find all that much good here in me And I never want to find out, Find out just how Just how far I can How far I can… Fall
Grilled on coal tar, Steeplejack, saw as the shine became shade Met my match at a halfway house mixer, in a six foot tenement maid Found peace, adopted a ward of the state, a little angel in a swaddling sack Got saved on the day I died, reading scripture from an almanac
Oh but I know, there’s something in me that wants to live on ‘Cause it took so long for me to carve out a place in this world And I never did find out, Find out just how Just how far I can How far I can… Fall
©2008 Shaun Cromwell |