Town went form pig town wrecks in the yard
Scream at the son just finish the job
Telephone poles slowly weeping their pitch
The putters brown sweat runs back down the ditch
A great place to visit. a better place to leave
False poison sumac lies on the eve
Weather vanes beat of mooring of shutters
The pig town blues run deep down the gutters

The skies are heavy Abram
Block after block after block

All across the marsh trees harshly accuse
Pointing black fingers most broke with abuse
High tension wires lush in degrees
Men have their conscience while dog have their fleas
Cyclops winks as he sinks to the soil
Labour in vain labour in toil
The resident's succomb to the shadows and sticks
The pig town blues run right through the bricks

The skies are heavy Abram
Block after block after block

The skies are heavy Abram
Block after block after block

The skies are heavy Abram
Block after block after block

The skies are heavy Abram
Block after block after block