Amor Fati lyrics

“I wanna know”
Reachy, brother
I wanna know

Bro, you paralyzed on top of a hospital bed
Tabloids riflin’ through some mad sh*t that you said
Somethin’ somethin’ ’bout you trippin’ over a horse?
Like a camel of pity—hog-tied to remorse?
But we all know that wasn’t the real story
You been nutters for a while now, haven’t you glory?
All seminal in the header, pounding pillows into feathers
You dance naked for the landlord through a peephole
Go and get her
Yo, you dance naked for the landlord through a peephole
Don’t forget her

I’m just clowning you, man
But this all could get worse
Dear Frederick N.:
I’ve read your letters

“I wanna know”
Reach me, brother
I wanna know
Healthy mind, healthy soul
I wanna know
Wealthy lines, wealthy no’s
I wanna know
I wanna “hello” better
You speak to me in riddles about wise men and sages
Like you’re “for the ages,” but I wanna know
If poetry ends, and that’s our story
’Cause boys couldn’t string together harmonies
Is that our glory?—“I wanna know”
You once said wisdom ripens burden in stages
As your prophecy rages—“I wanna know”
How many directions can your Overman point to?
I wanna know
Haven’t seen you exist possibility in pages

I’m just clowning you, man
But this all could get preggers
Dear “God is dead”:
Or do you beg to differ?

I wanna know
Preachy brother
I wanna know
Healthy mind, healthy soul
I wanna know
Wealthy lines, wealth of no’s
I wanna know
I wanna “hello” better

How you going to be iconic like that
Without expecting me to be iconic right back?
Your sista with fingas all over your feedback
You coined a “death” for us, so now let’s see your deed crack
Boundaries are the borders of the universe
Can’t sip karma? Yo, you must only drink Jack
Mitch, it’s your Übermensch here
The Second Coming, sittin’ pretty
Amor fati, Jim, where’d your might disappear?
Amor fati, Mitch, I’ve had a dynamite year
Thou shout!
How do you shape Jim’s demonic contours
Around the flight of my falcon, my Godly allure?
“Thou shalts”?
Preacher, don’t pout, it’s either one or the other
Philosophy’s not big enough for two conceptual brothers
Or is it; you mother?
I wanna know!

Preacher, my brother
“I wanna know”
If I subsume you for fun
Does that make our cosmic hysterics
Natural of the highest metaphysical order?
I wanna know!
I’m the Übermensch you warned about
Singin’ Christ, honin’ wagers
“I wanna blow”
Wealthy lines, wealthy no’s
I wanna know
I just wanna “hello” better

Is your career dead
All because I have a music in letters?
God, go get her
I wanna know
God is alive, and Mitch probably feels
Just a little bit better
I wanna know
Reason’s alive, and Jim probably feels
Just a little bet bitter
I wanna know
“Amor fati”—I’m your fait accompli!
Roll me a seven, preacher
Knee-j*rk, tell me:
How’s your view from Heaven?