Gonna into a fish tent
Gonna see what’s in there
Gonna see the fish in the fish tent
Gonna smell what they smell like
Fish in the fish tent
Feeling warm, hot, sticky and ripe
Remembering those hot days turned cool
Cool days turning hot
The slow, hot crawl of the sun across the stinking sky
A festering reminder of every day that we’re alive, the struggle, the rot and plunder
We feel out throats and hearts leaping, throwing themselves out of our skins
We see beauty, we feel it sometimes, we know it is close
But how often are we truly beautiful?
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fish tent