Nipwilliger Troll, what you gonna do?

Nipwilliger Troll
How'd you get that weird name?
And your delusional sense of mission?
And your wholly irrational concept of a game?

I was graced with it by the Spastacualqa
When they cleansed my brain
In their cleansing light
By their cleansing rain

Nipwilliger Troll
What you gonna do?
How you gonna get money?
How you gonna get food?

Procure shelter
and worldly resources
What you ever
gonna do?

Spastacualqa
En Rentinqulum
provides me
with everything I need

All I do is think of things
And they are revealed
To me via the conduit
of your greed

your species' greed
your hunger
your need
on these things I feed

Nipwilliger Troll
You're a homeless begger
Or a captain of industry
Or a frat guy at a kegger

Or a fisherman at sea
Or a convict in a cage
Or a good man locked in sin
Or a conductor on a stage

Shifting shape
like blood
blooming in water
blue and cool

or blood blooming
on the pavement
from your spittle
lip and drool

Nipwilliger Troll
What you gonna do?
How you gonna get money?
How you gonna get food?

I am graced by the Spastacualqa
When they cleanse my nightly brain
In their cleansing nightsome light
By their cleansing nightsome rain

standing by the highway side

standing by the highway side
beneath the arch of the sun
I'm gonna be that guy
I'm gonna be that one
travelin dude who walks from tree to tree to tree
like Johnny wayback Appleseed

standing by the highway side
in the baking sun
I'm gonna be that guy
past the years I've shunned
with head chills crashing an ocean wave
your Atlantic master your soul could still save

Real
you gotta
make it real
you gotta
cut the deal
With yourself
once

and for all

on the move

we are on the move
we are burning crude
like that Walking Dude
we are on the move

get up or lay down
get a cut of the deal yo
you get cut you get real yo
get a cut of the deal you

we are on the move
we are burning crude
like that Walking Dude
we are on the move

Paranoia Downs

Your ashen gaze, no mystery
What this world does
is leach all your colors.
Leaves you wrinkled and scag

You imagine a pond here
A tree here
Some land of your own
And a view into time

The horizon, your line
You walk in design
Survey it and go
Survey it and go

Dark hands have fallen
they smite the stray
those cursed from the land
those lost from the way

you gotta walk a mile in my shoes to get out here
you gotta walk a mile in my shoes to get out here
you gotta walk a mile in my shoes to get out here
you gotta walk a mile in my shoes to get out here

the universe is here

walking up the road
in profound gravel
this birch tree for gavel
this one for to swing

Josie clammed up for years
But now hear her sing
In her moonshine and twilight
For her flowers I bring

the universe is here
the universe is here
the universe is here
the universe is here

in the constellation of the pines

in the constellation of the pines
you check your satchel, you check your stash
you brought the whiskey
you brought the cash

your hair is grey
your heart is brown
your house is burned
and you've been shunned from town

in the constellation of the pines
as you plot your revenge
as your blades you whet
o you of the town

you will get yours
yet

the blueprints

the blueprints? yes I have them here. why?
no they do not delineate marginal interests
yes they include instructions on how to fly

yeh and no not just in dreams. equinoxes are what they seem
or yes they are. doggerel in a dirigible. indivisible; everything washed in blue
all the prints, all the tinctures. they were sepia now they're in blues

sepia old; blue, new. like the blues in you. the blueprints, yes. I have them
Never mind the payroll
that is what

he is for
that is what
he gets paid

to worry about