Lucretius (lucretius) wrote,

Despair Shanty

So, yesterday I wrote a despair shanty.  It's like a sea shanty, but with no sea in.  Imagine this one with a sort of Tom Waits delivery.  Heck, I think it'd sound good as a tango!

There’s a knot inside

That no one tied

And the ends are dipped in pitch

You may pick it til your fingers bleed

But you can never fill that need

And no one else can scratch that itch


Though others tried

Their twistings hide

That there is no simple resolution

A carpet knife drawn from the palm

A whiskey or a homemade bomb

It will only stretch out your confusion



Alexander isn’t coming,

So let us wipe our bitter mouths and sing

There’ll be no one to smooth your twisted turnings

No one to loosen your strings

No one to straighten out your problems

As your calloused fingers just get numb

When your tongue is too twisted for talking

Sing something twisted, or be dumb


In our dreams

The sword edge gleams

But it won’t end in sturm und drang

Though in our tangled guts we hope

That we’re nearing the ending of our ropes

Together or separately we hang.


So now, and forever: go hang.


What can I say?  I couldn't find a good rhyme for "cat's cradle."

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