The Worms
Max Ripps
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The worms are buried underneath concrete behind the stairs
I saw them once upon a time when I was petty scared
Weaving through the narrow streets where traffic is abhorred
I prefer the tiny places not built anymore
Twenty thousand people in a bedroom wall
Fifty thousand if you're counting down the hall
I used to live in a society and then it died now I'm happy just to be alive
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The worms are buried in the dirt and live under the ground
Decomposing nutrients and all that we've thrown out
The Linnea's longissimus is a hundred feet long
Worms don't have eyes or ears but they can sing a song
They warned of oil in the soil and the grass
At Shackamaxon Max you don't look ready for the task
I'll try to as pithy and precise as I can
I meander I'm rambling again