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letra de goatshead soup - little wings

with a crock of goatshead soup i walked
down that green lane so gingerly
the bog was breathing into me
as i tried not to lose the song
that cricket gave me all night long
and though i’ll only get it wrong
like sadness hung in the eaves

upon my staff held in a way
the moon it shone so tenderly
for it was early on you see
so silently i meant to creep
and catch the others fast asleep
and with the soup that would not keep
so rotten that it could curl leaves

i fumbled with a melody not certain
if the tune was straight
i also fumbled with the gate
and finally got it to unlatch
and looked around for somе dark patch
to hide and wait my plan to hatch
and join them on this hollow evе

where saints and ghouls conglomerate
but to these ghouls i was no saint
i poured some wretch and wrath and hate
into their bowls and sat to wait
and even did i decorate
with spring of mint wedge of potate
on a fabric that my wife weaved
they woke up just like christmas morn
to see this soup made out of h-rn
i tricked the devil to be born
into a nasty recipe
that leaves you hanging from a tree
and cracks your neck in two or three
and fills you till you can’t breathe

with a crock of goatshead soup i walked
down that green lane so gingerly

beware to all my enemies
that cricket gave me such a song
that i might sing it all day long
with notes that bend and don’t belong
and sounds which send a chill along
for tides to fill a billabong
with words that spill until they’re gone
and though i’ll probably get it wrong
this soup is strong indeed!

- little wings

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