sometimes i claim to know a guy but i can't tell you what his hands look like. nnguess who's coming to dinner.nngnashville. never in the night.nnnever in the night when the knot grows tighter than fingers can untienand all the last half dammed rivers have gone dryndoes the cock crow thrice until someone is deniednor the morning comesnyou wonder will you ever get your shit togethernwhat is that a leather sofa and a feather in an old fur hatnfake tat lost in a box of cracker jacksnpracticing your plane wreck face in a first class lavnn(that's what the ghost of someone's dad might say)nnwhen they come calling, i won't go calmnthere is no palm or divine mittnwith which to hold one's pitnor seperate the human race from its enviromentnno scattered ashes loosely gather asking where the fire wentnwe're left with half truth psalmsnin an indecypherable scrawl in some vague extinct languagenancient ink dull, almost vanished on some old brittle scrollnn(that's what the ghost of someone's dad might say)