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Wash My Hands

from Bed Rest Wine by Kevin MF King



I came to Oilton because i had to get away from
the man with a gun. He's got more than one.
He caught me standing in that field that he plants them weeds at.
I am a hungry man, stealing food was my plan.
He caught me standing in that field that he plants them weeds at.
I have a full belly, points his shotgun at me.
In this chase with time that i call my life.
Take this hitchhike ride. Three towns to border line.
I'm almost there. I'm free. If I get away these last three towns.
I'm gonna wash my hands of all my deeds.
I'm gonna scrub my hands until their clean.
In this chase with time, and I'm ahead this time.
I've hopped this train southbound, three towns from borderline.
In this race from my demise, he will gun me down in broad daylight.
I came through this town before, only three towns from border lord.
I have a great new plan, Mexico is a great big land.

You won't go, and I won't stay.
Except for pacing you can't walk away.
You used to talk, and I'd obey,
It all,
Failed to see the right in me,
Failed to see it all.

All I want, all I need. Is the sun, above me. All I need, is the sea, beneath my feet.
You can't trust most, like a brother. She's a good time friend, your an anytime lover.
Suspicion kissed you when I did, aggression hit me when you did.
Whats it worth to, work all day? Lose your time, hair turns grey.
What can you show, for your deeds? Busted up back, broken knees.
Bitch and moan, talk to me. Walk alone, walk so free.

Home Alone
I'd rather be home alone, place I'll never know. I'd rather be home alone.
You sit in that cell alone, CCA makes prisoners clones, for doing that time.
My partner went down that road, of selling coke and dope, he's locked up for a long time.
They target the poor and feed off those in poverty, the warden gets rich from greed.
That's why I'd rather be, alone, place I'll never know. I'd rather be home alone.

Menace Of A Deaf Kid
My lament for my weakness is a feast for the choir.
Bring a torch, bring a lantern, they/we are burning it down.
Is she better? She learned how to move a bit more.
Bring a chaser to my grave you phantom.
My loneliness can fill a jar, like a poor kids untied shoes make his feet sore.
I've been sent for the purpose of stating obvious lines to the choir.
Kettles black, i the pot can call that.
All I had has been sacrificed for a one time rant with the choir.
All I need is a sharpened edge to become anyone else than who I am.
I have spent all that I have earned so do me a favor....don't do me no favors.

Words From Past
Tell your problems to your momma, bet your fathers had them first.
You get toe tagged, you get body bagged, you get laid out in a hearse.
It's a cruel joke what we call life, when you pass down into dirt.
If i listen to a good word, it would probably be the first.
If the priest saw, just what i saw, when i saw, he would learn.
If you saw me with my thumb out on that long road feeling hurt.
He would listen to all my words, although my words sounded cursed.
In confession learned a lesson, its a blessing not a curse.

One day I approached a massive ship, I walked inside and I navigated it. This idea of a solo captain is what made my questions cease. I stare at the tears that fell, soaked patterns on the deck. I stare at the gears that swell, ropes hanging on this mess. Soaking ropes hang about, this ship hosts seaweed. No more cracks in the pavement, only rotten wooden fragments. I still have the letter, and the baby picture with you near. I will run to find you everyday, chasing my fear. I stare at the picture chasing the secret. Starving, I see the land. This idea of a solo captain, is what stopped my heart in my hand.


from Bed Rest Wine, released August 4, 2014


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