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