FUNERAL SONG FOR QUENTIN COMPSON
(ADAGIO, 3:5 SWINGING FEEL)
That patrician face, eaten in pieces
Where fire turned wet blood silver and orange
White muscle, black muscle washed till it glistened
By sugarcane fists on quivering hinges
Hey nanny hey nanny diddle da diddy
The natural path from the great Mississippi
South where a plantation house once was towering
In overgrown brambles a dead man is cowering
(Hit, hot, hit, hot, hit hot hit!)
The candle now gutters and burns down the chaff
Alloyed in times where gravestone chains cast
Shadows on boylike chivalrous pasts
Igniting like powder in afterbirth damp
Hey nanny hey nanny diddle da diddy
The natural path from the great Mississippi
South where a plantation house once was towering
In overgrown brambles a dead man is cowering
(Hit, hot, hit, hot, hit hot hit!)
I give you this fatherly funeral watch
For all of the research distractions have caught
On gallowlike hooks of the architect's square
I think: there's nothing there
Hey nanny hey nanny diddle da diddy
The natural path from the great Mississippi
South where a plantation house once was towering
In overgrown brambles a dead man is cowering
(Hit, hot, hit, hot, hit hot hit!)
Hey nanny hey nanny diddle da diddy
The natural path from the great Mississippi
South where a plantation house once was towering
In overgrown brambles a dead man is cowering
(Hit, hot, hit, hot, hit hot hit!)
I never done me not one bit of good
I'll bridge the gap where the sugar cane stood
I never done you it done me no good
To pour over bridges that old flower should
I never done me not one bit of good
titsay
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