The Ruminant Band - Fruit Bats

You’ll always have smokes if you always give buckets of love

Like little sad Tad who was living on beetles and grubs

He had a blued-eyed merle

And loved an Indian girl

Lived alone in the war wet field in this corner of the world

You’ll always eat bread if you always have seeds to sow

Like old Zen Ben who lived with a murder of crows

He wore a crown of beans

And a belt of weeds

Slept alone in the warm wet fields on a bed of mustard seed

You won’t lose the beat if you just keep clapping your hands

Like sweet sweet Pete who clapped for the Ruminant Band

He had a broken lung

And a bit-off tongue

Lived alone in the warm wet fields under moon and under sun