Learned not to cry these thunder years
And through the tumble and the fears
Now I’m trying
To crumble when I fall

For the hardship in my mouth
Drinking worms in bottled south
I’ve been lying
But it’s more than none at all

Calm down and lime
To balance out the taste
It ain’t a crime
Pick up my years I’d laid to waste

Found him walking blacktop-buried
Soggy-dogged and just as hairy
Lent a listen to the lint pills on our minds

As the fabrics of his presence
Took an hour just to set in
While we talked I caught to read the future signs

“Sammy Surgeon,” he barked in a mouth-wide grin
“I’ve been walking too long for unfamiliar sin,
and I think it’s high time I could start again”