(P.Mark)
From the album Trick Fiction

Little cousin Cal pulled his hook from the river, fried up his catch in a pan
Stumbled to his cabin doubled-up coughing, dropped down onto the bed
The doctor said it looks bad. He said, what’s he doing eating from there?
Uncle Jonah picked his gun from the mantle
And headed off towards that big glass building
Saying, I got something that’ll cure that coughing

Slow Toby fancied TV to reading, smoked himself trey packs a day
When the cancer took him he was dim to the reasons
The man told him smokes are OK
Now Toby’s dumb in his grave
The lawyer said we got no case
Uncle Jonah grabbed his gun from the mantle
And headed off towards that big glass building
Saying, I got something that’ll cure that coughing

Same soot that caked on old Bessie’s window melted the ice caps away
She went down sucking wind from a respirator, her bayou home laid to waste
The water line kept climbing
Mud slowly dragging everything away
Uncle Jonah grabbed his gun from the mantle
And headed off towards that big glass building
Saying, I got something that’ll cure that coughing