Hanging Bog  (B. Crouch)
	A clearing in the backwoods The teeth of a saw do their dance, hey do their dance, hey A single bent blade No one knows its age all that’s left of ‘em now Tearing up the back roads around Hanging Bog Do your dance, hey Do your dance, hey Don’t break a single blade of the grass, babe Blend in with the fog It began when the towers fell It did not end when the bombs fell So I came here with the bugs on infected with their love unkind Fevered and fearful and out of my mind A tincture too late A funeral wine A clearing in the night sky I see those bright eyes Lookin’ this way a' lookin’ that way Do your dance, hey a I’ll be here when the stars fall I’ll be here when the days dim I’ll be here ‘til the comet comes