Black Oak

Deep inside the country
 He went out for some air
 Amid an awful night of eating household objects on a dare
 A tea towel, a handful of refrigerator magnets
 And a watch
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 He staggered through the mudroom
 Got sick out in the street
 The towel in tiny pieces
 Magnetic letters neat
 And now arranged in such a way that they should spell his lover's name
 And time was of the essence
 The engine turning over
 The summons in the shop
 He could not recall the number
 But he knew it was a lot
 His belly warm with drink
 He leaned into the freeway in the night
 ♪
 Investigating exit ramps
 Waiting for a sign
 Scanning up the A.M. band
 Sliding down the vine
 He felt his stomach turn again and pulled off at the park
 She was standing in the black oak
 Carving poems in the bark
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 Planted in the café
 Her bloodied saber drawn
 Marking up the manuscript
 Hard against the dawn
 She turns on the recorder
 And pulls a nervous breath before she speaks
 ♪
 "7 A.M. Tuesday, January 9
 Realizing this may put my career on the line"
 The café man approaches
 With a corded phone and tells her
 "It's for you"
 ♪
 Somewhere in the static
 A disembodied voice
 The circumstances changed
 She will not have a choice
 The line dies, crackles soft, then sputters back to life
 "They found him at the black oak
 They dug him up last night"
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 Something scratched out in a tattoo
 Tuesday, I know none of that's true
 Learning everything you do
 Tuesday, I know all about you
 Something scratched out in a tattoo
 Tuesday, I know none of that's true