Augie March - The Drowning Dream Lyrics
Well our dogs get along, but have you noticed how easyevil dialogues of ours come out of wanting,for so long, an easy laughter, to feel guilty for some -Throw us in the oven where the angels fly,They still need to eatShe's clean, she keeps a clean house, she can cook alright,But I no longer have meatIn the middle of the field at the height of the eclipse,when all that we could see were the fiery whipsof that hot-headed god, hot-headed god and wild,perpetually running from his wife and child- I was born in the bottom of a boat,Of glass between the sea and meUpward from the floor they'd float,Bodies from the drowning dreamWhat do you make in the furnace of your chest?The same as she makes in the locket of her breast.Here's where the buds in the coal-chocked tomb go hard,clear and deadly and never ever bloom- There were fifty-four people in the back of a truck,They were only sleepingWhen we come to pick them up,Safe within our keepingSixty-eight bullets for my wife and I,They will never be satisfiedStrength and purpose fringed by fire,Fire I was born in the bottom of a boat,Of glass between the sea and meUpward from the floor they'd float,Bodies from the drowning dream.
