3 Al Purdys Bruce Cockburn

[Intro]
Stand in the swaying boxcar doorway
Moving east away from the sunset and
After a while the eyes digest a country and
The belly perceives a mapmaker's vision
In dust and dirt on the face and hands here
Its smell drawn deep through the nostrils down
To the lungs and spurts through bloodstream
Campaigns in lower intestines and
Chants love songs to the kidneys
After a while there is no arrival and
No departure possible any more
You are where you were always going
And the shape of home is under your fingernails

[Verse 1]
I'm a product of some parents of the sort that shouldn't breed
Didn't get much schooling past learning how to read
Got the poetry bug in some forgotten institution
When first I did embark on this career of destitution
The beauty of language set a hook in my soul
Me like a breadcrust soaking soup from a bowl

[Chorus]
You can call this a rant but I declare I declaim
Al Purdy's poems are the name of the game
The winds of fate blow where they will
I'll give you three Al Purdys for a twenty dollar bill