She pilots her craft
A raveled, ragged kite
One hand reaches to join
While the other raises to strike
He shoots words like bullets
Cocks the trigger of his brain
A language implodes
Beats the heart
Explodes like rain ringing down on the people
Who were eating
The apple of Eden
In the tunnel of doubt
On the ship without a rudder
And the man without clout says:

Metaphor, the smiling whore
With silver teeth metaphor
Ghost on a shiny floor
Me, I just want more metaphor


Here we go
The tide that turns
The light that breaks
The wind that whirls
The time that takes
The blind man man sees
The deaf girl hears
The killer loves
And now you’re all ears

We climb the cross to glimpse our god
We bear our stones up strangled stairs
The fire that burns
The wolves at night
A cage for angels
A church for devils
Am I right?

It’s just
Metaphor, the smiling whore
With silver teeth metaphor
Ghost on a shiny floor
Me, I just want more metaphor

 

The Metaphor Song

Words by Bob McAllister, Music by Mark Nichols 2006 from "The Seagull Variations"

Trivia: The CD radio voice at the beginning magically came through the speakers while I was recording a guitar track. I expect it was one of my older neighbors. I just hit record, and that's how it lies.

This song is a tribute, in a way, to one of my favorite bands, Soul Coughing. White man poetry/rap, I guess. The beat box is Kyrian from Seattle. I'm doing Bari Saxes.