they're singing.

And finally he opens his mouth so full with words, so full it overruns like sweet milk in the pale dawn when Dewey Dell she squeezes the cows and makes freshness, so full it was like the train that it had lost its track and its wheels quit turning like a fish it quits flipping back and forth in the dust, so full he emptied it out into the wetness in the house where the wood it cracks under his now-dirty clothing and his white hands they get more white as he opens his mouth and lets out its blackness.

He says, “God’s grace upon this house.”

Then he closes his mouth, all turned to white, and the rest of him, they dont see it, but it is turned to red.