From the height of the highway onramp
We saw two dogs, dead in a field
Glowing on the Oakland Coliseum
Green seats wasteland
Dogs, dogs we thought were dead
They rose up, rose up when whistled at
Their rib cage inflating
Like men on the beach being photographed
guard dog, guard dog for what, for what
Against tofers ellis penniless athletic fanatics
Getting into games through a whole in the fence
For the owners of the blue tarp tent
Pitched by a creek, beneath an onramp
In the privacy of the last three
Skin and bony tree, devoid of leaves
And us undeceased and our new cd's
Dippin' on goodies, Oakland
 [bad word] :
It's hard to stand the sight of
Two dogs dead under a sky so blue
You have to stop the blood to your head
To fit the breath in front of you

We secretly long to be some part of a car crash
Long to see your arms stripped off the tendons
The nudity of swelling exposed vein
Webbibg the back of your hand
To be a red-tendoned dog
To be red-tendoned dogs
Blood breathing by the side of the highway

I long to be dead
Center of a curious crowd
To be touched
Sticky, like nearly dried paint
Their soft silent stare nursing your face
Anticipating the slightest pinch I flinch of pain
Everyone blank in accident awe
As the car crash fiberglass dust
Straight up settles on your raw muscle tissue
 [bad word] 

To be a red-tendoned dog
To be red-tendoned dogs
To be red-tendoned dogs
To be red-tendoned dogs
To be dead center of a curious crowd

Against my misery
I don't think I've seen my screeching pain
I can now feel what's around us
It is some sort of harmony
The harmony of overwhelming murder