The boots of the corpse that I found in the river, the ones that you wore and followed for miles.

Lord willin' and the creek don't rise	Getting a tight ring off a swollen finger	When this horse tires, we shall eat it for strength.	This dream is tied to a horse that will never tire
in the still hollows under bridges	I used to complain that I had no shoes, until I met a man that had no feet.	These dead open their bodies to the living like a door	The Bride Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, Even
All in green my love went riding	The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.	Hope is a dangerous thing	Ant graveyard
It has bits of marrow sticking to it, and blood, and beautiful bright-green flies.	West and away the wheels of darkness roll	To The Children Who Paddle And Fall In The Shallows	I should have been a pair of ragged claws scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
We don't dig our graves, anymore.	The Search Party	Cumberland Caverns	that wounded rider knows the intimacies of the river. its earliest mud is still under his fingernails.
Stages of decomposition	Black damp	cock's crow and dog's theft	You have to be in hell to see heaven

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