My brother said to me
"That wadn't no moon. Too red. Too big. Too Wild.
Too much to be.
Like a mean old Magi's eyes
Fillin up the whole sky.
The real moon is just a little silver thing."
So we went back to the river
bank the next night at dusk
With spears that were made from willow branches and knives
And when that thing come up
Ah we flung our spears and we run to our secret hiding place
Deep in the woods.
Now we come home
The night was bright as day
An Ma was snappin beans out on the porch
Dad was drunk and singin some old religious tune
And we's all lit up by the Mississippi Moon.