On strings of ever-increasing tensile strength.
Are my limbs getting stronger from resisting, or are my movements simply growing more in synch?
Go where led,
lead when told.
Limbs of lead and strings of gold.
A badge of brass upon my wooden breast.
Dance for the masses until you've grown too old.
May 23
May 23, 2026 at 9:01 AM UTC
On strings of ever-increasing tensile strength.
Are my limbs getting stronger from resisting, or are my movements simply growing more in synch?
Go where led,
lead when told.
Limbs of lead and strings of gold.
A badge of brass upon my wooden breast.
Dance for the masses until you've grown too old.
Hung from a hook,
gathering shavings in a nook,
building a nest
in hopes some wayward bird
will come to roost.
