I got them cyanide blues,
my entrails knows ’em from the past,
those days I learned that you were lost,
those extra Prussian blues.
Don’t want no cancer blue to come,
no cobalt dancing in that witch’s ring,
maybe those two old oxides,
black manganese and sister indium
will give me a blues it’s safe to sing.
Out of all that heat and hurt,
with indium and stars you’ll come,
my entrails wait to hear your step,
your voice that says, “I’m home again.”
Betcha my blues won’t ask, “Where from?”
No need to know particulars,
no need to knock those bruises down again,
I’ll take you just a sittin’ here,
I’ll take you in starlight or in the rain,
two blues in harmony without no blame.
I’ve got them harmony-blue-moon blues,
those particular hummable sky-blue-blues,
indium rhythm along one track,
you takin’ your turn and you turnin’ back,
together we sing good hungrier indium blues.