~~~
What you need is a little mud hut with some bones above the door
half a canteen of water & nobody there to keep the score
you can hoot & howl & chase lizards across the empty wasteland
you’ll be one with dust & thirst & life will be oh so grand
~
And if a bill with your name on it comes floatin’ by
don’t pay it, burn it, & watch the smoke drift across the sky
burn it on the rock you use for an altar next to your door
offer the burning bill up to Jehovah & then, then pray for some more
~
You’ll be so happy you won’t care whether or not you’re wearin’ shoes
you’ll be so carefree you’ll just fall down whenever you want & take a snooze
and when you die, just roam around a spirit forever more
to hell with workin’ and bills, now yer headin’ for reality’s distant shore
~
Where the angels sing and play hool-a-hoop with moon beams
& saints weave endless gowns for the next wedding of you & your dreams
where God is one big grinning communion host in the sky
and all your cartoon images of Him are thee exact reason why…
~~~
from an out-of-print book
A Love Song To The American Lizard
by Rawclyde!
(Copyright Clyde Collins 1999)
~~~
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