The smoke from the battle fish and the rain soaked throughnand the wheelman left the shorenand barns tumbled and silos flew across fifteen miles bad road tarnAnd big Bull Trometer hung on to the sidenand the pig dogs trembled on Spidey's wild ridennAnd big John Jizom from downtown Chizomnflew away with old mrs. StormnAnd they found Bird Lundy neath a keg of nails crooked as a dog's hind legnKeeping warm after twenty-nine days on hard assed breadnhe drilled to the big outside and clung like a tick to his waterfrontnlife mooned and clouded, blued and skiednAnd all the clocks blew up on Spidey's wild ridennAnd the hills stood up in a great big 3nand left me whipped by the forces that were inside menLoud as the ocean, cold as a desk, red as the water on the river of fleshnAnd he was sewing up his pants while he was shoeing a mulenAnd he was bucking a head wind galenBut the crooked ass beauty was trapped to the sidenand he shook on Spidey's wild ridennAnd all the statue ass makers, and the uprooted treesnAnd I shouted way up to where the rabbit digs his holenand the wheelman, the jockeys the landlords and theenwere bucking a head wind southnand with nine lives spent, he landed on his rentncomposed with a steele head salmon in his mouthnand I never did see another day outsidencause I'd had enough travel on Spidey's wild ride