h a l f b a k e r y
Needs more cowbell.
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A lone black man, slathered in sweat, foam running from the corners of his mouth, runs stumbling through a freshly ploughed field.
He stops to look back over his shoulder, at the distant sound of hounds, baying for his blood.
In the uncertain light of the moon, he can just make out the shape of
what may be a scarecrow, straw for a face and perhaps one shoe.
Another quick glance over his shoulder.
The sound of a shot.
The moon is reflected in a dark puddle by his head. A set of footprints lead away from his still form. Every left footprint is shoeless.
The dogs mill, aimlessly, around the field.
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Too much prop and not enough shoe. |
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The local folk say that on still evenings when the moon is on the wane, a slowly moving shape limps forth from the dank rustling bean fields in search of a lost shoe, but never finding it because on a fateful night years before a wild rifle shot had blown shreds of brain and skull into the one good eye of the deranged beanpicker as he raked and tilled in the dark of night. |
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"He who walks between the rows". I heard about this guy, when I was pickin' beans, down in Guatemala. |
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I got to keep movin'
I've got to keep movin'
shoes fallin' down like hail
shoes fallin' down like hail
Umm mmm mmm mmm
shoes fallin' down like hail
shoes fallin' down like hail
And the days keeps on worryin' me
there's a smellhound on my trail
smellhound on my trail
smellhound on my trail |
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I could while away the hours, conferrin' with the flowers,
Consultin' with cow poo.
And my foot wouldn't need scratchin' while my thoughts where buys hatchin'
If I only had a shoe.
I'd unravel every riddle for any individ'le,
In trouble or without a clue.
With the thoughts you'll be thinkin', you could be another Lincoln.
If you only had a shoe.
Oh I could tell you why the ocean's near the shore.
I could think of things I never thunk before.
And then I'd sit, and think some more.
I would not be just a nothin' my head all full of stuffin
My heart all full of goo.
I would dance and be merry, life would be a ding-a-derry,
If I only had a shoe. |
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