here s a fish in my stomach a thousand years old can t swim a full circle the water s too cold burnt out cars in my fingers conveyor belts flow right angles and steam whistles nothing can grow a big antlered deer stepping into the road a beautiful woman with her head in the stove the skyscrapers crumble heavy with rats the wind s full of beer cans and whiffle ball bats the endless sea of traffic lights never make a sound like ben franklin s electric kite crashing to the ground and the winnebago skeletons beneath this bankrupt town this fish in my stomach wears a full length mink but his teeth float in sherry in a jar by the sink he s the withered remains of rin tin tin taking his new cadillac out for a spin  the endless sea of traffic lights never make a sound like ben franklin s electric kite crashing to the ground and the winnebago skeletons beneath this bankrupt town