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Mistress of the Salmon Salt (Quicklime Girl)
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{{Infobox song |title=Mistress of the Salmon Salt (Quicklime Girl) |image=Tyranny and mutation cover.jpg |artist=[[Blue Öyster Cult]] |album=''[[Tyranny and Mutation]]'' |released=February 1973 |length=5:08 |writers=[[Albert Bouchard]]<br>[[Sandy Pearlman]] |lead-vocals=[[Eric Bloom]]}} '''Mistress of the Salmon Salt (Quicklime Girl)''' is the eighth and final track from [[Blue Öyster Cult]]'s second studio album, ''[[Tyranny and Mutation]]''. == Lyrics == <poem style="border: 1px solid #8eb6d4; background-color: #0b0b14; padding-left: 1em; padding-right: 3em; border-radius: 10px; width: fit-content"> ''Ah, yeah'' In the garden district Where the plants grow strong and tall Behind the bush, there lurks a girl Who makes them strong and tall The villagers call her Quicklime girl, behind her back Quicklime girl, behind the bush Quicklime girl, she's the mistress of the salmon salt Quicklime girl Quicklime girl Quicklime girl, ooh In the fall when plants return By harvest time, she knows the score Ripe and ready to the eye Yet rotten somehow to the core And they call her Quicklime girl, behind her back Quicklime girl, behind the bush Quicklime girl, well, she's the mistress of the salmon salt Quicklime girl Quicklime girl Quicklime girl, ooh A harvest of life, a harvest of death One body of life, one body of death And when you've gone and choked to death With laughter and a little step I'll prepare the quicklime, friend For your ripe and ready grave For your ripe and ready grave It's springtime now, and cares subside And the planning's almost done And fertile graves it seems exist Within a mile of that juke joint Where Coast Guard crews still take their leave Quite listless in the sun And the quicklime girl still plies her trade Reduction of the many from the one And they call her Quicklime girl, behind her back Quicklime girl, behind the bush Quicklime girl, well, she's the mistress of the salmon salt Quicklime girl Quicklime girl, they call her Quicklime girl, ooh A harvest of life, a harvest of death Resumes its course each day It comes as if by schedule A harvest of limbs, of arms and of legs The toes that crawl, the knees that jerk The necks like swans that seem to turn As if inclined to gasp or pray</poem> == Trivia == TBA {{Songs}} [[Category:Songs]] [[Category:Tyranny and Mutation]]
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