When you gonna put my separate selves together
When you gonna make my disparate children gather
Such a silly mind, say the opposite of what you really mean
Just to get a rise, wanna make me rise to the wrong occasion
M-M-M-M My Pleroma
My Pleroma strikes a mystic chord of memory
Better angels spark a dream, get the better of me
Nature takes hold, goes bold, breaks cold sweats we wake up from
Scatter brained by upside two-by-fours keep score struck dumb
Gotta fill it up, fill it up with cuisine
Gotta take a pill, **** it! (Know what I mean?)
Big pet peeve bug drives a crazy fix-it man sane
Till the time ticks past the track, misses the train
Gets back to the place to where we once belonged
Waterloo derailed, revolution curtailed, narrative sing-songed
Everyone repeat after me: Eat a great meal, feel good with friends
Put your arms around loved ones, make means meet ends
M-M-M-M My Pleroma

You called it our baby
And I sung it into life
The first word in its ear
The song of all our strife.

I am the ****** queen
No man to make me rule
Your underestimated dream girl
Your perfect ingenue.

You called the sounds
The good sounds
And from the rock came death
And all the sad destruction
And all our baited breath
And all the holy discord
And every frightened dream
And bare breasted, I move on
Like water in the stream.


You called me your baby
And swan-songed ever sweet
I went along with every gamble
Til you tasted defeat.

I am the queen of snakes
The Pythia, obscured
The maiden, mother, mistress, crone
The one that’s never heard.

You called my body
A celestial body
And from the sky came rain
And in the eclipsing silence
You never heard my pain
And all the holy hatred
And all the washed up dreams
And now, I alone move on,
Like water in the stream.

Sweet Pythia, I’m burning
And I must find the way
The lonely heart has never learned
How to make him stay.

But he is not contention
He is only choice
The songs I sang for many men
Only make him love my voice.

And you call these sounds
The good sounds
When the good sounds please you best
The sounds when they adore you
Not the aggressive ‘I digress’
And all the holy Heras
And all the built in rust
And I, without armies win battles
And you without care, **** trust.

I am the mistress, maiden, crone
All dolly-eyed and blue
Your manic little angel
Your perfect ingenue.

I am the maiden, mother, crone
And now apart from you
Because no one is anything
And nothing you heard is true.

To **** a man
is to flog his hide
if the hide were his brain
and the scars were
meandering
creases littering.

I have heard
the songed bird cry
when the notes were
both hopeful, unafraid
awake
and twittered.

And in the tired
slow gasping release
of moon upon night
overwhelmed by stars
like satellite
transmitters.

Oh my girl
I know it feels so rough
broken bones and tender bruises
aint no bluff

You're doing more than you know
it's just starting to show
no time to blow it
nor up.
get down.
with what is
you always knew it wouldnt' be easy
keep going, you're dancing, flowin' grliding, stop slidin'

like water, move like this. Ignore what's that?
Eyes on the road, trees = SMACK!

simplify it if you gotta
as long as they eye is on the prize and out of the gutter
the house was set ablaze long ago
the foof was on fire and were were meant to let it burn

we don't got clean water anymore.
trophies in the junkyard
and the downtrodden are no longer bards.
the songs got scripted a long time ago

voices, minds, and songbirds are all in tow
she resembles, ensembles have been bought and paid for
the tune is made of ichor and rot, played for us, siren songed us
lured into the depths of self.

tongues caught by cats and all in knots
tunes whistled through the air
through crevaces and cracks
even the stones began to sing
when the world went so out of whack

birds changing staccato beats
maybe ends were met

echoing new words through
the halls and words back to struts
sparrows and robins, the hood and new tweets