A Song for Ernest Hemingway

The sky goes from concrete to charcoal
 I'm laying on my back on the roof
 Gonna shoot these clouds full of holes
 I need some fucking light to pour through
 'Cause December's got me up against the ropes
 And I don't know how to get loose
 I can't get feeling back in my toes
 From walking in circles with you
 Like we're lost Canadian geese
 I should be south of here already
 I'll be your dead bird, you'll be my bloodhound
 You're just doing what you're told
 Pick my body off the ground
 I'll be your dead bird...
 I'm staring at Hemingway's shotgun
 And I'll picture him drinking alone
 He's forgetting things that he wouldn't have before
 His eyes are starting to go
 And I heard all about how his plane went down
 After Christmas in the Congo
 Read about his own death in the paper
 I bet it was freeing to know
 When you destroy everything worth chasing
 There's no where left to go
 I'll be your dead bird, you'll be my bloodhound
 You're just doing what you're told
 Pick my body off the ground
 I'll be your dead bird
 Hanging from your mouth
 You're doing like you're told
 Gonna make your master proud
 It's good to know
 I didn't die for nothing
 December's got me backed into a corner again
 My ears are back, my teeth are showing
 I'm combing through the wreckage trying to find where I've been
 I still get battle pains but from a safer distance
 I'll be your dead bird, you'll be my bloodhound
 You're just doing what you're told
 Pick my body off the ground
 I'll be your dead bird
 Hanging from your mouth
 You're doing like you're told
 Gonna make your master proud
 It's good to know
 I didn't die for nothing
 December's got me backed into a corner again
 My ears are back
 (I didn't die for nothing)
 My teeth are showing
 I'm combing through the wreckage trying to find where I've been
 I still get battle pains
 I didn't die for nothing