Red Tide

There's a smell here that stands my hairs on end

Dog hair in the heater, gas pumps and cedar

And jackknifes on the nine

And seabirds choked on fishing line

Clouds are a hush but the chainsaws mush on to Custer and Columbia

Salty tentacles drink in the sun but the red tide is over

The mollusks they have won

There's a smell here of gravel and cigarettes lit

When the match made them sweet

When the engine turned over and beat up our street

Oh, that was the day

To remember

I remember because of the fires that leapt

From the caves of the things that have not happened yet

When I think of it now they smell to me quite sinister

I want to go back and die at the drive in

Die before strangers can say

I hate the rain

I hate the rain