The Cold Cold Ground

Now don’t be a cry baby when there’s wood in the shed,

There’s a bird in the chimney and a stone in my bed,

When the road’s washed out they pass the bottle around,

And wait in the arms of the cold cold ground.

— Tom Waits, “Cold Cold Ground”, 1987

It is rumoured that after concluding his song about the

war in Ilium, Homer sang next of the war between the

frogs and rats.

— Jorge Luis Borges, “The Immortal”, 1949