The Flat Baritone

The Gourds

Form a ring and wind and twine



Round the ol' grape vine



Heavy on the wire from the house



Salt the cow and kill the calf



Meet yer lonesome with a once and a half



Gent¹s on the east and ladies on the south




The solemn boy carries his silver damage



Sold but for, the number and the image




His eyes have saddened making wine from the stems



Empty ears longing for the wood and the skins



Paper yellowed from the salt and the failure




When he sings he slurs



& uses the meat of his thigh



T¹hold the book he wrote when he was lame



So wrapped up in his flat baritone



No castrato could woo him in from the rain




For he never raised his voice when his britches



Was spillin¹ over with that honey truck richness




His eyes have saddened making wine from the stems



Empty ears longing for the wood and the skins



Paper yellowed from the salt and the failure




Well the stylus hit the patches



As he spit on the splashes



& sought out the scratches in the vinyl



'Neath a needle topped with nickels



To keep the tunes a-goin'



Cracklin', croonin' & crowin'




Multi-colored, hard-boiled & hidden



In the corners, with the dogs rusty remnants




His eyes have saddened making wine from the stems



Empty ears longing for the wood and the skins



Paper yellowed from the salt and the failure