The Evening Ghost Crab Songtext
von Devon Sproule

Your four favorite persons
Waist deep in a waveless ocean
A gesturing, big, sticky skin, messy hair affair
You run back to grab your camera
Carrying it carefully over the water
But when you look out again
They′re lost in the night brown
The sun is down and the flies are out

You're practical as the daytime
You never believed in the evening ghost crap
Countering flashlights
With a 360 view
Ticking down to the land of the skim board
Evolutionally stuck at the half point
Wick the bubbling oxygen
Pinch the groping hand
Hold your breath in the sand


You′re waking up on a jungly mattress
Caterpillar tents in your branches
Oh, you think you saw it
Yeah, you think you caught a glimpse
But here you are again at the bottom
Climbing up yesterday's mountain
All you really want is another little look off the edge

You're just a few miles from your childhood exit
A few more from the local prison
Stop in for a visit
See what we′ve added on
You press the button for the floor under the basement
To see the rows of lifers adjacent
And each house was made by the man inside
Before he died with a Goldy Goodmind


You come home in a blue afternoon
Pick up the same tea and barbecue
You′ve got so much, so much and so little to do
But your four favorite persons
Are waiting for you to finish your lesson
And waiting to go to the Blue Hole
Pile up the hippy stones
Expose the copperhead
The bruise on your leg
Juice in the wine
Bodies in their prime
Around a jumping fire
Within a cicada choir

Somebody's hand is on your shoulder
Somebody′s measuring the coffee for the morning
And there's always somebody who′s blowing a sweet midnight wind
But anytime you try you can hear that wind blowing
If you really listen you can hear it in the morning
It's the same song over and over and over again