Black Mud Survival - by Mike Semrad

Gotta a call from my superior-said the rap sheets in on me

He said, "you'll be eating from the ice-box...we've got all that we
need".

I focused all my anger and my heart was beating fast-

I just mumbled what we needed to make the winter last......

a cold drink of coffee and I'm looking for my net

%(with Industrial Decline I'd bet this to all happen again)%

I'm the candidate for failure if you read the racing form

the track is made of concrete and my racing shoes have worn.

The Cowboys on the side throwing rocks and makin' bets

and the canopy of steel still holds me by my head.

While the cold behind the clouds says: the money almost gone.

While the Champ is in the circle mouthing the Champions song...

The Match Factory is bleeding from the blades that we have thrown

the blades just keep a comin' cause the fleet has always grown.

Sweetheart take my trumpet and sell it on the web, I got melodies
o'plenty
dancin' in my head.

If we need the money we'll take it while we can-

the basket man at the Church I'm sure he'll understand

We got worms up in the freezer and the rockets on the rack

if you sell my items baby, I'll someday get em' back

We'll live upon the river in the cold and bitter grey

at night we'll sing to naked trees with our hot pot in the sway

Cause for me it's the idea of reliving as you go-

as the pictured soldier on the wall- the meaning changes as you grow.

Semrad 04-14-05

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