Goatshead Soup

Lyrics

With a crock of goatshead soup I walked Down that green lane so gingerly The bog was breathing into me As I tried not to lose the song That cricket gave me all night long And though I'll only get it wrong Like sadness hung in the eaves Upon my staff held in a way The moon it shone so tenderly For it was early on you see So silently I meant to creep And catch the others fast asleep And with the soup that would not keep So rotten that it could curl leaves I fumbled with a melody not certain If the tune was straight I also fumbled with the gate And finally got it to unlatch And looked around for somе dark patch To hide and wait my plan to hatch And join them on this hollow evе Where saints and ghouls conglomerate But to these ghouls i was no saint I poured some wretch and wrath and hate Into their bowls and sat to wait And even did I decorate With spring of mint wedge of potate On a fabric that my wife weaved They woke up just like Christmas morn To see this soup made out of horn I tricked the devil to be born Into a nasty recipe That leaves you hanging from a tree And cracks your neck in two or three And fills you till you can't breathe With a crock of goatshead soup I walked Down that green lane so gingerly Beware to all my enemies That cricket gave me such a song That I might sing it all day long With notes that bend and don't belong And sounds which send a chill along For tides to fill a billabong With words that spill until they're gone And though I'll probably get it wrong This soup is strong indeed!