Moth

Now somewhere between the plastic, dog-eared flaps

Of the kitchen screen door

Rests a little gypsy moth, it got burned out from the war

(It was a big one) The war, that is, it was a Sunday afternoon

The gypsy was held a prisoner by the screen door from the moon

Now somewhere between the dog food and the moth

In the kitchen screen door

I fell in love with the gypsy, so I signed up for the war

(It was a big one) The moth, that is, she was the size of a baby raccoon

I pulled down the plastic prison walls

And we danced in the light of the moon

Well, she knows nothing at all about life

Now she knows everything about living

Well, she knows nothing at all about life

Now she knows everything about living

She dipped and swirled and dove and twirled and danced in celebration

We'd won the war of the kitchen screen door and the gypsy's liberation

(It was a big one) The victory, and the sun gave way to the moon

Well, we got drunk and she thanked me

And then we drank all afternoon

Now somewhere between the back porch

And the yellowy light of the moon

Waits a widow, who even wonders, on a Sunday night in June

(It was a big one) The spider, that is, and she never even batted an eye

When the gypsy flew into her web, and I thought

"You know, sometimes it might be difficult

To walk a street blind when you're half in the bag

And three sheets to the wind, so to speak, but to fly?"

She knows nothing at all about life

Now she knows everything about living

Well, she knows nothing at all about life

Now she knows everything about living

She knows nothing at all about life

Now she knows everything about living

Well, she knows nothing at all about life

Now she knows everything about living

Well, she knows nothing at all about life

Now she knows everything about living

Well, she knows nothing at all about life

Now she knows everything about living