(Damn These) Hungry Times - Cousteau

It’s so formless

That’s what’s killing me

Remorseless, relentless

And it’s endlessly this pressure

On pleasures hard to find

Its expression

Walks amongst these hungry times

Like the blues made flesh

And so it goes…

What of this can we keep

We’re scratching out a living here

Where living is dear and life is cheap

So we pray to all of the gods who’ll listen

Deliver me, consider me

Get rid of these hostilities at my shoes

How can it be true, I…

I’ll toe the line

But damn these hungry times

Just a little would taste so fine

But damn these hungry times

I’m suspicious

If love don’t leave no scars

Between its kisses

Its curses and its calm

You know it won’t do

If love’s enough to eat

Then we’d hunger

And on the licks of love we’d feast

'Til we’re ghosts…

Of a memory…