letra de tendon - reade mccardell
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there’s a man (if you can call him a man)
lives on an island by himself with only the birds and the lord to talk to
roughly thirty feet tall without a scr-p of skin at all
and a smile – give you nightmares for a month
his lidless eyes have seen unthinkable things
castaways crushed by his own hands
he saw no difference between them and the peccaries
sun-bleached and painted their bones
he didn’t see it as a crime
he didn’t know
he didn’t know
so the lord has a place for him
a little villa in heaven where he can press his own oil and make pottery
there he’ll have people to love
a suit of beautiful skin to dress the wound his earthly life had been
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