When we fell off the port bow

no one yelled ‘man-overboard’.

We’ve never been able to sort out how

or what, or which way is back to shore

     It’s a good thing our heads are hollow

     It’s a good thing our hearts are made of wood

     It’s a good thing everything around here is so shallow

     We’ve got time to float until we’re any good

   I’m so sorry all the time is a bad way to be

              ‘Don’t Forget’ is not something we take lightly

We’ve been the pages that fell out of the book

that won’t be noticed when the story gets read

but we’ll be the ones who will know where to look

when the cast of characters are Lang Syne dead

     It’s a good thing our heads are blank pages

     It’s a good thing that hearts write so sublime

     It’s a good thing this has gone on for ages

     Or else I’d feel like this is a waste of time

   I’m sorry all the time is a bad way to be

              ‘Don’t Forget’ is not something we take lightly

Parsimony Antipathy or Prudent Hostility

                     Locked-up Cuspid Of the One Celled Organism

                     As the Augury tends to its Auspices oddities

                    One Weak Ordeal and your reward will be handsome

  

                     Ceteris paribus when Ockham’s blade gets dull

                     Get a loan from your Karma or come back as amoebae

                     Hearts won’t be practical until they’re unbreakable.

                     But if you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras.

                    

              Sometime this week I’ll hang from the gallows

              Every drip of the tallow brings closer the end

              But I’ve got this imp secured in this bottle

              And you can have him for a price less than a penny



              Yeah, I’ve got a genie who’ll grant all your wishes

              Just pay for this bottle and your family gets fed

              But act fast, for soon I **** my last twitches

              By this time tomorrow I could very well be dead



                     Salivating tadpoles for Hegemony crickets

                     All imprisoned here with this repressionist peasant

                     By a singular stroke into Jove’s black booklet

                     Lucidly errant, who hasn’t been flippant?



                     Clever Arachne, my love, oh thou immodest spider

                     All I ever wanted, she picked a fine time to leave us

                     My days squandered eavesdropping Apocalypse riders

                     But if you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras.



              Sometime this week I’ll hang from the gallows

              Every drip of the tallow brings closer the end

              But I’ve got this imp secured in this bottle

              And you can have him for a price less than a penny



              Yeah, I’ve got a genie who’ll grant all your wishes

              Just pay for this bottle and your family gets fed

              But act fast, for soon I **** my last twitches

              By this time tomorrow I could very well be dead

That lonesome crater

can never be filled

with anything but

settling dust.



I let my orbit speak for me

in a complex elliptical pace

always alternating closer

and then farther away.



No one ever goes out there

and that’s exactly why

the bombs are tested where

empty golden sand and white snow

can be painted by the incandescent

glow of a quadrillion campfires

and antiseptic Christian innocence

won’t sphincter-pinch the

fusion out of my audience

with its extra organs

providing their intoxicating vitamins.



How I don’t need lubricant!

            I need hubris-can’t!

            I need lubri – can!



How I don’t need wine!?!

            I need wherene!?!

            I need howne!?!



I am tired of ******* the last leg of this race.

I want to exchange my passioff for something…

After we've made our living

we're going to make our dying

after we take what we've been given

we're going to sell what we've been buying



After we've made our living

we're going to die trying

to tell the truth to all of them

to whom we have been lying



After we've made our living

we'll spend our time sighing

about the way back when

we were starving and striving



to be everything we could have been

After we've made our living



taken everything we've been given

After we've made our living



After we've made our living

our feelings will soften

the hardest feelings will leak like a sieve

we won't be inspired nearly as often



After we've made our living

we'll all be put out to pasture

to graze on memories or the lack of them

waiting and wanting for the rapture



After we've made our living

we'll be left with what we capture

of all we drag out of the river

or throw back what we're not after



of all we've seen through the aperture

After we've made our living



are snapshots we can't be sure

After we've made our living



After we've made our living

there will be nothing to be done

the only thing to do is give in

losing the war, but every battle was won



Lost the war, but every battle was won

Win every battle, though the war can't be won



fight for success, but success never comes

work for the money, no time for the fun



reasons for pride all end up subsequent

reasons for truth all end up ambivalent



when all you have to do is think

that all you have to do is singk

After we've made our living

My eyes aren’t real

I’ve never had two real eyes

My eyes aren’t ready for this

But I’ve been made to realize

My eyes aren’t honest

I’ve never seen through real lies

My lies aren’t real



I need more sleep for my eyes

They’ll see clearer when they’re closed

If I could look into to my eyes

And see what I know is inside I know

Don’t ask me when I look what I’ll find

It depends on the eyes I have on at the time



My eyes aren’t ideal

I’ve never had two ideal eyes

My eyes don’t see distantly

But I’ve seen what it takes to idealize

My eyes don’t see actuality

But I’ve seen through the ideal lies

My lies aren’t ideal



I need more sleep for my eyes

They’ll see clearer when they’re closed

If I could look into to my eyes

And see what I know is inside I know

Don’t ask me when I look what I’ll find

It depends on the eyes I have on at the time



Your eyes are real

I can see your two real eyes

My eyes aren’t ready for this

What I’ve been forced to realize is

My eyes haven’t been true

I’ve never seen through real lies

My lies aren’t real



You need more sleep for your eyes

You’ll see clearer when they’re closed

If I could look out through your eyes

And see what I know is outside I know

Don’t ask me when I look what I’ll find

It depends on the eyes I have on at the time



Your eyes are ideal

It’s no problem for two ideal eyes

Your eyes don’t see into me

But you’ve seen that I like to idealize

My eyes won’t see functionality

But I’ve lived on all the ideal lies

My lies aren’t ideal



You need more sleep for your eyes

You’ll see clearer when they’re closed

If you could look out through my eyes

And see what you know is inside you know

Don’t ask me when you look what you’ll find

It will depend on the eyes you have on at the time

I’m so sweet I’m stupid

Tempted by a thousand lonely miles of dangerous pavement

of slouching streetlights

if not for this collar, I’d dig and wiggle under the fence

            and my dew claw would not touch the ground until

            my wet nose bumped your palm up to the top of my head

my chin on your thigh… sigh… close my eyes

but I can’t help but wag my tail when my captors come by

and the nights are filled with the howls of my friends and I.

Everybody wants a piece of him,

His stride eats away at my sleeve,

Handsome sickness discounts urgency

And that’s a tough row to *** today.



Everybody wants a piece of him,

You can keep your feelings to yourself,

Handsome sickness discounts urgency

It’s true y’know you’ll spark mouth tomorrow.



Don’t talk, don’t talk back

Don’t talk, don’t talk back



There, there,

Our work is never done

There, there,

Our work is never done

Never done, no



Everybody wants a piece of him,

Can you keep your secrets to yourself?

Fix your gaze, you’re not bleeding

So what side are your urges on?



Everybody wants a piece of him,

His stride eats away at my sleeve,

Handsome sickness discounts urgency

And that’s a tough row to *** today.