LYRIC

One and a two and a three…

Tumors seem like
Something you would collect
And poison seems like
Something you would take
In the offensive ways off all flesh

I am not ready
And cannot accept
That it is spread like a cancer

Goodnight, goodnight!
Don't look, sweet old friend!
Don't look, little sister!
Don't answer!
Knock, knock, knock!
Don't answer!
Only answer for your fear of God
Don't answer for the nothings else
Ye, o night, o night, o night!
Get away, ye, o night!
Get off, get back, get off, o night!

It is in fact maybe magnificent
In the bosoms of Abraham
I will behead all the saints
I will behead all the stars
Let lightning strike where it will
Coco-nuts, ba-nay-nays
Flowering vines in revolt
Let there be peace
And let it begin with thee

I am not ready
And I cannot accept
I am not ready
And I cannot accept
I am not ready
And I cannot accept

Maybe you can revolt
If you can't revolt

Chunks of your forearm
Chunks of your scalp
Chunks of your hunch
Now in a dumpster or in a sandwich
Your hairpiece perched upon your head
As if dropped from the ceiling by accident
Never not at worry
And now, never not blonde
Oh oh oh, oh oh oh!

Let her be reborn
As something unruinable
A meteor, a mushroom, a kakapo
A sparkling out of control

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