The Soup - Hail Mary Mallon

I throw dice and darts, you dot your eyes with hearts

I hold a fork and knife under the guise of art

And chew the fat in Pig English, tapped and transmitted

Motherfuckers flock like Chads to a whippet

Daddy bad credit spill ketchup on the console

Pair of glowing eyes staring daggers from the foxhole

(God Flow) Aes stay gold like Ponyo

Hard headed, war-vetted, four-legged mongrel

Speak slow order Jim Beam shoots

And split hairs over if it is a Jim Reed tune

On the big screen, pig skins, go team go

In the corner there’s a cop with his whole wheat toast

Foreman of the flock In the last booth left

That the rest of us avoided cause the bathroom stench

On the bench there’s some papers with the local fare

There’s a chicken that I dated but I won’t go there

We face down in the soup

Bent like a bow or a 'bow' or a U

Bad guest tramps through the house in his shoes

You a bad, bad man or a clown with balloons

We face down in the soup

Bent like a bow or a 'bow' or a U

Loud as a crowd getting down at the stoop

Throw your oars in the air or get out the canoe

Winter in the shit, pinner in his lip

W-w-winner, winner TV dinner kids, git 'er did

Treasure map full of pushpins, leather on his hoof since

Seven-six, never with a second set of footprints

Lone deathworm, spinning in a Deicide time lapse

Freedom fighter, feed a biter Zweiback dry

Real Earth hides in the syntax

Even if you don’t take kindly to riff-raff (We do)

Boneheads illustrate a vessel to believe through

Nestled by the free green pea soup special

One for the mutts that walk three feet in front of their gut

Sipping mush out of cups

And still drag drills to the dig site, no way

No gray hairs, only silver pinstripes

Pills in the palms of a million dendrites

Just about sick of this buildings insides

We face down in the soup

Bent like a bow or a 'bow' or a U

Stoned to the bone, getting thrown through the roof

With a buzz like your wife, second strike on the Feud

We face down in the soup

Bent like a bow or a 'bow' or a U

Knock knock, Mallon got a crown to remove

Walk in with the broke, walk out with the food

Wild talk from the hallway steps

Through the sheetrock walls and the crawlspace vents

And his ears lopped off and a dog leg left

And the blood in his beard on the salt-stained ends

Sugar on top of his sharply worded

Ribbing with a gryphon in his car seat, swerving

Shotgun and the marquis merging

And his hand on the horn and a sorry sermon (My bad)

One eye closed like I’m Sandy Duncan

The other on the prize and a Stanley tough wrench

Paralyzed from the pant crease up

When he shook hands with a man in his family truck bed

Can’t be fun, get spoiled and streaked with

Malice when the Mallons get the royal treatment

Oils and free shit and rare collections

Of falcons and helmets and bears with weapons

We face down in the soup

Bent like a bow or a 'bow' or a U

Sleep on the couch with a mouth full of chew

Wake up spellbound, hellhounds on the loose

We face down in the soup

Bent like a bow or a 'bow' or a U

Drinking water from the spout of the fountain of youth

Then we foam at the mouth or we howl at the moon

HMM

Rock the spot