Burn - Oxbow

Build a fire

And stoke it with gasoline

And TNT

And the wicked poor flesh

And watch the careen

Into the baddest crash

You have ever seen

Watch while I smile

Because I love to love this

Life’s hot kiss

And its empty remembrance

Of what was not pain

«Who's going to carry the platter that holds the head of John?

The hammered

silver shimmered;

the snakes on its face were brilliant in a brilliant design

crawling from under the head that was guilty of th crime.

And the scribes and

th scabs came and the old women and all the hags came to view in death,

as in life John-of-Dreams quiet and nodding.

And they made a smooth furrow a

hollow hole his resting place.

And they dumped his damp shroud after him and

his old ruddy and robust had become pale and thin.

The shriek in the thickets

reduced to a whisper that echoed finally silent.

The end was truly at hand as

he said and above the crime and the penance was an inscription that read ‘Pass

the strictest sentence'»

So light it up in black and blue

And Christmas green

And invite me in

And shoot me down

And curse this love like kindness

Because the smoke is always thick

In the love of God and blindness

Thick enough to make you sick

And sick enough to make you stop