Dirty Pants
BILL CALLAHAN
And so I dance in dirty pants
A drink in my hand
No shirt and broken tooth
Barefoot and beaming
The crowd is stomping
Stomping a song
For me to dance to
Break glass and give in
My head is springing
Blood ringing
So I walk down to the creek
And I slither in
I catch my breath
Icy cold
Then I walk out to your house
And let myself in
Back you into the corner
And I multiply
I could toll endlessly
Into the bottomless night
God does not answer this type of prayer