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River Forktine Tippecanoe Lyrics

Album Name : Petr and the Wulf
Release Date : 2010-10-05
Song Duration : 5:02

Munly & The Lee Lewis Harlots River Forktine Tippecanoe


It was one of them days, the first Thursday of a new
month.
When you come to bathe in my river- Forktine Tippecanoe
I woke up early to fetch my own breakfast shuffled
cross the deck of my houseboat, yanked hard on my line
then up through the air arced a red slider turtle
His shell mad coconut noises as it bounced across my
deck

Didn’t crack like some frenchies egg-whips.
So I pried open his shell then shucked his body out,
far away in the ocean I could hear oysters giggling

Then I pulled out my father’s father’s helmet, the one
he wore in the ‘Great War’.
Filled it full of water, set it on my hotplate to heat
up my turtle...

Who I held, cradled in my palm looked like a preemie
baby wiggling it’s undeveloped limbs. That’s when I set
him into his hot new shell, he gave me clouded eye
looks.
I pried open my door, went down to my shore to wash out
my helmet.
But you come up behind me so I relieved myself quickly
into my helmet, boy, I cannot loosen in my river on
this first Thursday.

You step into my river, - Forktine Tippecanoe- but I
know that you’re ashamed of your undeveloped body, so I
wait deep inside my houseboat...
While you bathe in my river...

And brother, I be waiting on you to commence that joke
the one you have pulled year after year after year
after year after year....
You swim under my boat you rap on its underbelly,
makin’ me shuffle across my deck, makin’ me shuck open
my door, makin’ me stretch out my neck, makin’ me look
at the cloudless sky, makin’ me laugh by rollin’ your
joke, makin’ me say ‘thought someone was calling for
me.’

You stick your head out of my river you giggle and
speak retarded-ly, said, “brother did you like my
joke?’
yes, but it’s left me hungry, could you catch me one
more red sliding turtle?

Deep in my house, I am ... giggling, knowing that I had
emptied my river of the last turtle. That’s when I
heard you come up for air from hunting my river, and I
think, aw Christ come next month, there’ll be a first
Thursday, what would I like to watch you chase with
your fingerless body.
Body body, body...

Maybe I’ll will start on some northern pike, maybe I
will start on some fat sunny perch, maybe I will get me
some pregnant rainbow trout. I can picture it now, I
will roll those un-broke eggs around in my mouth, I
will be wearing my father’s father’s helmet,
goosestepping in my hobnail boots rapping out a message
to the beasts below, telling them someone be coming
down to my river, - Forktine Tippecanoe- my river -
Forktine Tippecanoe-



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