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.