Even mornings may contain nocturnal trepidations
When lights appear as if by ear of Hills’ Appellations
Where no Eskimo would inhabit obscure munitions
In this area lies a mammoth of monstrations
What is- I don’t know.
There! at the windshield!
Grey clothes- I don’t know.
Red glows- I don’t know.
My eyes are searing
But the paths froze.
I don’t know
I don’t know
I don’t know
A visit from an injurious, cold man
And another of remarkable tan
Thyroid eyes and fingers long
Question me in rambling song
Asking me “Would you mind
If we saw you in time?”
I lack days, a call to me
Sit through hours of prophecy
How tiresome becomes oddity
Since always do I see
What I postulate “maybe”
But, really…
I don’t know
I don’t know
I don’t know
I like this pen all my time
Walking houses that I find
People frantic and so they're prime
Their eyes aclose and so distract
As I incite others' play act
And then drop them all in the grime
Lights scare my children dear
A man snatched at my daughter here
I wish to leave this town behind
Goddam the traffic's in a bind
Karl, Indrid, and Demo all said
If I leave the town, I'll get some bread
Child bride, our house will glow
How's that sound?
I don't know.
While the Pope dodged a knife years too late
It did find Rob hostelly
In another State the lights simply fade
While in ours the vector collapses