Fur Balls - Mark Kozelek, Ben Boye, Jim White

Oh, oh, oh, the rain pours

The cat coughed up one of her fur balls

And I cleaned it up and ten minutes later she was snoring

And the rain kept pouring and pouring

Tapping on my roof like fingertips on the face of a banjo

There’s a crack in the seal of my window

Two decades in a hundred year old building will show its wear and tear

Many have come and gone but I won’t go

Not yet, no no, no no no

This is my haiku of the day:

«I didn’t do much

At home I laid in my bed

In my bed I stayed»

Yeah, the cat threw up one of her fur balls

I thought you wondered what us rock stars did on our days off

Does it upset you that we clean up fur balls?

Are you mad that I laid in bed all day scratching my balls?

If you’re upset, please don’t write things on the restroom walls

It’s depressing enough in the restroom stalls

Don’t write ugly things on the walls, it ain’t good for you

Don’t write hateful things on the walls

Well all the bitches are whining and whining

Me and the black ocean are shining

When I talk, a lot get spoke

We don’t need to, me and the black ocean

I just told you, we don’t need to

For we are shining, shining, shining…

Nature’s leisure, your brain is picturing your tongue on a clear

A sweet mouth on your dick, everyone in this world are hypocrites

We’re all half bloods and we’re all half crips

Dirty sluts, your mind in the gutter

Your brain has a picture of you jerking off on Earth

We’re all just searching and we’re all full of shit

We’re all just searching, baby, and we’re all full of shit

We’re all just searching, baby, and we’re all full of shit

We’re all just searching, baby, and we’re all full of shit

The rain tonight is splattering on my roof like

A thousand drops of a hundred years' worth of leftover chicken curry

She smiled and up to my right on the bookcase

Is William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury

Whoo!

Whoo!

Whoo!

Damn you all, damn you

You will, will you?

You will, will you?

You think you will?

The bones of glass crack

Flapping slow and heavy, all it is

What’s your name, little girl?

What’s your name, little girl?

A woman is either a lady or not

Something no longer heard in a lacker’s mouth

I will sweep past your door, door, door

I was not who was not who was not who

After a while the laughter ran out

What did you do today?

Did you love or did you hate?

Did you bury their dead body or were they cremated?

And when they died, did you write beautiful words for them?

I know you did, I know you did

Cause if you didn’t, what is you is?

What is you if you got no words for the dead?

I got words for the dead and so do you

You got words for the dead

Cause if you don’t, then what is you is?

So mind you mind you mind you mind you mind you Benjy

Not Quentin or Dalton or Jason III or Dilsey

He 33, he ain’t equipped mentally or emotionally

And he cry and he cry and he cry like a baby

It’s a cry that we all cry deep inside

When somebody does us wrong or injures our little baby pride

Men don’t let other men know that they are crying

Men want the other man to think he is high flying

And I know we are flying high brother, for we are shining

We both know when the other is crying, for we are shining

Am I sinking or am I climbing?

A little of both as we all are, or we’d be lying

Well for our attention the bitches are pining

Where you at, black?

Are you there, my brother?

Something tells me you are my brother from another mother

I’m down here in New Orleans, I’m here in New Orleans

And where the fuck are you?

I know where you are, for we are shining

You’re driving around in your Mercedes, driving the ladies crazy

And I’m sleeping in a lot late lately

Fighting against the temptation to be lazy

And that’s it