I wrote this last night, it ain't no fancypants pome or no rap, itÕs a growler- imagine Lee Hazlewood or Calvin Johnson or Lux Interior growling thruÕ this...

"I'm not the campfire singer,

I'm the campfire Spitting out marshmallows with a crackle and a pop

Woodcutter come with axe he chop

Chopping up wood, fuel for my fire

Flames grow tall, that's my desire

Come walk my white hot coals, just see if you can

When the moon comes up:

Beware! The Wolfman!

Yeh, I'm the campfire, I'm the glow on your face

Feel me bring my heat to yr secret hiding place

I'm the sweat on yr brow and the tickle in yr belly

C'mon, baby, let's burn! Goddam, whoa nellie!

Don't go down in the woods tonight

Because if you do, you just might

Yeh, I'm not the campfire singer I'm something much worse

Yr darkest secret, the blackest curse

I'm the soot on yr nose and down on yr knees

Yr a flock of pretty birds, I'm a swarm of dirty bees

When the sun comes up, my fires still burn

But you have to go and I'll never learn"Ê

Alright, alright. IÕm thinking of sending it in to TV Quick.