I was a quick wet boy, diving too deep for coins,
All of your street light eyes wide on my plastic toys
Then when the cops closed the fair, I cut my long baby hair,
Stole me a dog-eared map and called for you everywhere.


Have I found you, flightless bird?
Jealous, weeping or lost you,
American mouth.
Big pill looming..

Now I’m a fat house cat,
Nursing my sore blunt tongue,
Watching the warm poison rats curl through the wide
fence cracks,
Pissing on magazine photos
Those fishing lures thrown in the cold
And clean blood of Christ mountain
stream

Have I found you, flightless bird,
Grounded, bleeding or lost you, american mouth
Big pill stuck going down

(c) Iron & Wine