Marching band
of spiraling springs
shifting eloquently
getting a little loopy
off of fumes
cars will make you loony
if they're around too much
on top too much
screeching to a fault
we love it when that happens
that tragedy of fact
where all is exactly as it appears to be
but you sure wish it weren't,
wish it were all a lie
all pretty
all movement and shadow
no fallacies or pharmacies
just us
you know
it could be nice
for a bit
to be a brain in a jar
in a basement
in a house in a town in a world in a galaxy in a universe
that actually exists
to **** it
to there and back
it's more satisfying
than a crying *******'s last song