Lyrics
I was a quick wet boy
Diving too deep for coins
All of your street light eyes
Wide on my plastic toys
Then when the cops closed the fair
I cut my long baby hair
Stole me a dog-eared map
And called for you everywhere
Have I found you? Flightless bird
Jealous, weeping
Or lost you? American mouth
Big pill looming
Now I'm a fat house cat
Nursing my sore blunt tongue
Watching the warm poison rats
Curl through the wide fence cracks
Pissing on magazine photos
Those fishing lures
Thrown in the cold and clean
Blood of Christ mountain stream
Have I found you? Flightless bird
Grounded, bleeding
Or lost you? American mouth
Big pill, stuck going down
one interpretation from https://songmeanings.com/songs/view/3530822107858648974/
IMO, there are dual, yet similar, themes running through this song: (1) an individual's loss of innocence/idealism; and (2) the degradation/dissolution of the mythical "American" dream.
The first verse sets our protagonist as an innocent child (quick, wet, diving too deep) - newly born, baptized, full of energy/enthusiasm, carefree. We get a glimpse of what's to come through the "blind" eyes of the adult world whom the child can already see seem focused on material things ("plastic toys"). The "cops" (his own adulthood) crash the party and he's forced to grow up and give up his pure youthful enjoyment of life (cut his baby hair). Thus, he begins his quest to find his meaning/life in this adult American landscape. For me, it also brings to mind the end of the idealism of the peace/protest movement of the late 60's...the system crushes the uprising...the hippies cut their hair...and wander off...going on to what?
Well, the second verse tells us exactly where our protagonist's journey has landed him...a big fat safe spot with the adults of his youth. He's achieved the "American Dream", or has he? Now all talk and no action. He curses himself and the wrong/injustice he sees around him, yet he idly sits and watches these "poison rats" (the establishment, big business, corrupt government) slither by and destroy his ideal world. He bides his time in his magazines, finding pleasure in viewing some advertisement of folks fishing in some idyllic river. He is not out there himself, but even if he was, he would be merely pillaging/ruining/sacrificing a place of nature ("blood of christ mountain stream").
It's a really depressing song, but it's certainly beautiful.
