A Fox Named Arthur Cedar

There was a fox I knew his name, his name was Arthur Cedar
He'd slink around the streets at nights the food bins were his feeders
Empty roads, patrolling with his streetlamp twin his shadow
Starry nights invite the lonely fox out of his burrow
This fox he played the drums, two chicken bones his beaters
Bass drum dream, his shells made out of maple, oak
And Cedar struck the snare a thunderclap, his big black cloud drew nearer
In the dark cried out his lover's name but could not hear her
So the air will leave your chest
Left standing still
Desolate the middle of the road
A red bushy tail goes
Scampers round the corner
Cymbals crashing down on
You the only friend of, our little fox here Arthur Cedar
So alone I watched, oh Arthur he succumbed to
Swallowed by the storm, feet gave up nowhere to run to
Now my fox is dead, he joins his love in thunderhead
Whether with her weather's better
Wondering out loud I said
So I'll play the drums, for my friend Arthur
Rumble in the sky, bury bass drum beaters in the batter head
You hear the cries, of sons and daughter foxes
In the half light of the night streets
Through the winters and spring blossoms
So the air will leave your chest
Left standing still
Desolate the middle of the road
A red bushy tail goes
Scampers round the corner
Cymbals crashing down on
You the only friend of, our little fox here Arthur Cedar