Yellow Jack's Waltz

The Saffron Scourge dances through the Memphis mud A miasma rising from the stagnant flood The pilot's gaze is yellow, the papers turn to red As the lime-dust settles on the unrecorded dead Step to the rhythm of the burial cart One-two-three, the great clearance starts Black vomit waltzing in a carbolic haze The biological truth of these dying days Pest-house steamboats wallow at the quay Vectors of a progress that has lost its way The thimble-whack of fate on a mortified brow Gauge the groan of the ghost-town now Step to the rhythm of the burial cart One-two-three, the great clearance starts Black vomit waltzing in a carbolic haze The biological truth of these dying days One... two... three...