Riding you down
Up the backstairs
Skip a line, walking wound of mine
As big as your fist
Who gave you such a heart
Such a heart as this
Spread out on the ground
Corsicana clip
Corsicana slip
All around your lips
The spool has spun, unwound

In the hollow of His hand
Delicate listener
My tethered giver
My burning lampstand

Oh I must be off, off your rock
I set my teeth in spite of hand
I've got a chalk-man's chance
To bed him down
To stop his clock
Be a proverb to me
Quiet, like a feather
Seven hundred pound hold
And buck rein tight
Just as dangerous
With my free hand tonight
From a slag of iron
All drawn out, all such animals do sound
The baal-room belle found
Stoved in, gutted down