Shooting Pianos

Shooting Pianos

I’d like tonight to shoot some pianos
Jingling tunes to a baby blues beat
Asking myself, myself

Can I tunnel down to the next universe
Carrying a passport that’s carved from moonshine?
And will the old saint in the sunshine suit
Give me stern guidance while off flying nowhere
(Though I love playing pearl in his necklace of birds)

After the pianos are gutted by bullets
Casings so thick dancers spill on the floor
I’ll play its fast notes to songs I just mastered
Letting the melodies seek their direction
Wherever the hell they go