I bare my brutish aim: to disguise my animalism in symbols and obscurity. A con game I’m winning, don't forget. But what about you? And you?
I bare my base beliefs: negate whatever I have heard or said, it doesn't matter what. But what about you? And you?
I'm conducting this wild pantomime, aloof, immune, and sour. A raven hobbles past with a broken wing. I follow it into abstraction
But you dance like a dizzy crying child. And you sing like you think that you belong. And you are plummeting past hope. And you are making a tremendous fool of yourself again