From The Recordings Html
Instrumental. Wrote in my car years ago in the high road to Taos. Rediscovered and recorded.
My wife Laura's least favorite song of mine. because of the subject matter. Yes occasionally I write a song about roadkill. I came home one night late in the mountains from a band gig or an IATSE union job. There was a porcupine laying on the double yellow, it was not dead yet. Hit and run. I stopped and wondered what to do and was taken by the mysterious creature that can ward off the mightiest predator. Last rites?
Here is some of Berlin's greatest percussion on the album and Steve's incredible sense of build. A quick one! You'll want to hear again.
Porcupine in the road
Not all dead yet, well that blows
Head laying on the double yellow back broken like a cello
Poor poor porcupine I saw it moving it's still alive
I went back to show it some mercy finish it off
Its soul it was set free
Spines stuck in the tires
Why are you calling me a liar?
Poor poor porcupine makes me almost feel like crying
I'd rather die on the highway then in a zoo in my own manure
What strange music in you purrs?
Only the Pines know for sure
Poor poor porcupine he's still moving he still alive
The mountain winds don't seem to care
As they blow through its guard hairs
The last sun rays form a shroud
Knock the pink stuffing from the clouds
Poor poor porcupine he's not moving he's not alive.