Scope J

The Russians are going The Russians are going Departing like merchants Dragging the contours Into the never settling snow Behold not a possum Nothing to sneeze at A ruble left spinning Ruble keeps spinning Oh, where is the somber reverie? Fingered, but I won't be soiled I won't beg or lift my voice And I won't be soiled The sun will never rise But I will see It Spilling down, the slave ships cross the bay A tear will never fall But I will feel it Gliding on the cheekless Gliding on the cheekless Cut her to ribbons again Long flowing ribbons again I'm wearing the wire On the outside Grows the furside On the inside Grows the skinside So the furside Is the outside And the skinside Is the inside Oneside likes the Skinside inside And the furside On the outside Others like the Skinside outside And the furside On the inside If you turn the Skinside inside Thinking you will Side with that Side then the Softside fursides Inside which Some argue is The wrong side If you turn the Furside outside As you say it Grows on that side Then your outside's Next to skinside Which becomforts Not the right side Where do the sewers go? They gotta go somewhere I know they can't empty into the sea Gotta go somewhere Wherever the sewers go That's where you'll find it Soaring the darkness of a life It is the dagger Not the knife Fingered, but I won't be soiled I won't beg or lift my voice And I won't be soiled The early birds will not resolve the issue As runners leap to fly Tree climbers glide to ground Night without a star Is what a night is And for me, a glass to bring the stars around At the Roadsides Carts are Piling up With corpses And breath just keeps on flowing Breath just keeps on flowing Up ahead in the shadow A bootleg is hooking Please cut her to ribbons again The Russians are going The Russians are going I'm wearing the wire Fire without smoke Smoke without fire