the twisting of God's nerves
and the laughing gas face
and a world relied on
cannot save me a place
extinct from the ocean
and sucking, like lambs,
on air too thick...
I'm nervously hanging...
still magically here
I'm comfortably worried
that we've poisoned the well...
and the food we eat
and the nails we hang from...
have been kept clean...
I hate to confess...
but the rats won the race
and in all this confusion...
we, nervously, somehow,
emptied our plates
and it's a wonder that anything
turns us on at all...
I'm nervously hanging...
still magically here
and, stupidly, somehow,
just singing along...
you've once heard the notion
the whales must be saved
well, build them a theme park,
and teach them to beg
down by the black pond
all tired and still
the birds have gathered
they magically circle
carefully, though,
I'm certain they've noticed...
we've poisoned the well
and I'm patiently hanging...
from a delicate bough
and it's a wonder that anything
still shocks me at all...