The New Cobweb Summer - Lambchop

The last thought that you think today 
Has already happened 
The link between profound and pain 
Covers you like sherwin williams 

The smokey joe is broken 
Drops into your lap 
And the big red wasp 
Makes a scan through 
My black pages 

Last night our boy was out there 
Burning up his matches 
I saw him in the afternoon 
Sporting a black eye 

The universal man 
Holds a pistol or a bottle 
Types with confidence 
As we grow out of our 
Bruises 

Once I had a friend 
Who had the knack of tossing 
His mind around geography 
Boy you think, you have problems 

The hunter is asleep 
At least that's what I call him 
In the afternoon 
Of the new cobweb 
Summer