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lyrics

Salting the Slugs

Well, he's a slab of human fatback.
He's a skunk among the sheep.
Get yourself mixed up with him,
you won't never get no sleep.
He's the injun to your cowboy,
he's the fugitive to your king.
You can warn everybody about him,
it won't change a thing.

You can comfort yourself with scriptures,
you can comfort each other with hugs.
But you know in the bigger picture,
it's only salting the slugs.

Well he dwells in the nightmares of women
who invited him to their beds.
It's a river of blood that he's swimming,
all the men who lost their heads.
And the things that were tattooed upon him
and the things that bind in his hair,
they all come from a power you pray to
in a future that couldn't care.

You can lie to yourself with religion,
you can lie to each other with hugs.
But he knows that in the long run,
it's only salting the slugs.

You pretend that it's a conspiracy,
you believe that it's only a hoax.
But he stared at the center of what you are
and saw that it's only a joke.

You can label it mental nausea,
or existentialist bile.
You can say whatever you have to,
as long as it's with a smile.

You can succor yourself with scripture,
you can succor each other with hugs.
But you know in the bigger picture,
it's only salting the slugs.

credits

from Choice Doyce: The Best of Doyce Whisanant, released April 1, 2010

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Tony Arnold Florida

Art Rock.

Psychedelic Progressive.

Soundscapes.

Instrumental.

Rustic Funk.

Space Exotica.

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