All Hands

Damn randy fellows
manhandling the fields
feel stifled, one muggy melee.
Hot they trot to my cool eyes
tell me that I want 'em I want 'em
right outta my way.
It's not a place for the mousey girl.
Alice where'd you go?
I'm alone in a savannah ravaged,
full of slick men.
Eyes black like black holes, only taking
sizing betties up, jail bait,
Williston 10.
It's not a place for the mousey girl.
Sweat beading, seedy meetings
in the man camps
breezes damp with that steam.
Breathe that musk
from the dawn to the dusk
it makes me want some want someone
to see me.
It's not a place for the mousey girl.

John Wayne Gacy, Jr (Sufjan Stevens cover)

katura

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