Romance Valley - Hammers of Misfortune

Someone call the water

It’s freezing up the spokes

Like any deal or device

It worked until it broke

Whistle past the graveyard

Where the river runs uphill

Let us juice the roundheels

No ink is gonna spill

Your insiders — Newborn spiders

Starve the sentry — Clear re-entry

Thoroughbreds who should be dead

Run faster 'round the track

All the swans down at the pond

Are turning turning black

Crumpled up and sodden

Receipts upon the floor

Trodden on and trampled in

The stampede to the door

Dance between the raindrops

And cue the violins

All the river-boaters know

The killer always wins