From the top of Pikes Peak
To the trough of the isthmus
We traveled in wagons
It was none of your business
When winter came we thought we’d have a talent show
Something to keep us warm in snow
And you dance till you’re dead
Till your soul is fed
And you make your stand
Every woman, every man
As long as there’s some chicken in the frying pan
You know we’re going to make it out to sea
Conestoga wagon’s got a broken wheel
You know that it happens all the time
But we can hunker down
And we could build this town
Harvest the ice and wait a while
San Francisco or bust
You know that prayer is a must
And you do a handstand, every woman every man
As long as there’s a dog in the frying pan
You know all of us will make to sea
San Francisco or bust
You know that prayer is a must
You struggle some when you have a dream
But then you turn on your own
Your house won’t be a home
Anarchy is closer than it seems
But you sing while you can
And you dance a cancan
And you do a handstand
Every woman every man
As long as we got each other
In the frying pan
You know some of us will make it out to sea
You can try to save face
There’s a market and a place
For every living soul to ply his trade
And you make your mistakes
And there’s some give and take
And you’re sleeping in the bed that you have made
But you breathe while you can
And you leave when you can
And you eat what you can
Every woman, every man
As long as we got each other in the frying pan
You know some of us will make it out to sea
–From the Salon de la Guerre album Yipano
Copyright 2018
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