The interalog is registering
a complaint that something’s stirring
that we thought we had got rid of
very long ago
It sounds a bit like insect legs
assembling tents with tiny pegs
to worship insect deities
with antennae bowed low
But then again it sounds a lot
like something burning in a pot
a nasty lump of sorrow
from an undigested past
And if that explanation’s thin
allow me to explain again
the image will not hold
because I’m an iconoclast
You can read an explanation of the origin of these lyrics here
2 comments:
That's not a song, it's a poem, and a pretty good one.
I'm kind of fuzzy on the distinction, actually. Thanks nonetheless.
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