Before I went to the dentist, I was lying out in my backward and I wrote a poem and it was called "As I Lie In My Backyard Thinking On August 2nd..."

[laughter]

And it went like this:

Flies are scattering themselves over my face like planes above a planet
People who die in plane crashes turn into flies
People who die in cave-ins turn into crystal
People who live in sin turn into serpents crawling on spiny bellies
So my grandma says over her wire-rim glasses
But I don't believe in sin, or serpents, for that matter
There are only guilty ghosts come back to tease you with their clatter
Like the hunter in my hallway
Like the lion that is growing in my ivy tree

And this is kind of a Halloween song, it's about a witch that I met in Ottowa.

[laughter, guitar playing, clapping]