If I were asleep in The Marshes

If I were asleep in The Marshes

Would the deep mud raise me to my feet (no)

Would Old Man Lewis call my name

Say, Darlin’

It’s morning and the boys went to war

The girls went to work without you.

I’m asleep in The Marshes

And the veined heart leaves that lifted me last night

To the heights of the wide blue yonder and into the sweet bliss of green

They hold tight around my neck

They squeeze and strangle, gently strangle

And Old Man Lewis can’t see; he went blind a few years back

And the boys and the girls, they left The Marshes with a sickle and scythe

So, do I stay here?

In the deep mud marsh

Let the deep greenbluebrown kill me.

I’ll hold on

I promise

Can you?

The Marsh asks.