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