Two black and blue kittie cats bordered by the creak of night,
One howling pretty, both howling right.
Bed upon bed asleep beneath the yellow moon,
One cat says, "I'm making ground,"
The other cat says, "Fuck yeah! Me too."
Night jet trails merging with the bright, bright moon.
O, quickest mouth gone hailstorm and knock-about
With shining spit on the chin that helps the stones roll out,
Leaving pirate eye patches and wheelchairs in the dust,
I'll be greasing that jaw and watching for rust.
Tell it like it is! Tell it like you do.
Night jet trails merging with the bright, bright moon.
If every axe handle broadcasts its designer,
Then my prints are on yours, and yours are on mine.
Keep swinging that work till your work shirt seams split,
I'll bust out, fresh-hatcheted, and finish it.
Used to quit so soon.
Night jet trails merging with the bright, bright moon.
Near the army base on the seashore, a campfire glimmers,
Wave over wave, yes, but whisper on whisper.
A branch breaks on the high dune as two breaths are shorted!
I load up the shovels; you ready the horses.
You know what to do. Always talking to you.
Night jet trails merging with the bright, bright moon.