Bearded Lady's Earwax Breakfast (Obtuse Angles.)

It's a cold day in the winter sun

Sets down hayfire to our beds

Microscopic giants roam the streets

To set our cars alight

Our homes are a harvest for the evil around

We smuggle it across the border

Subservience is our way to rule

We rule ourselves from the safety of view

Look to the skies, the sun is setting

It's just the world turning away

From every great star comes a lonely death

And a big black hole

I make my own blindfold,it comes out at night

Take arms against the decay

Shoe strings, heart strings, semi-blue pages

It's hardly a work of art.

Button the hatches, like every man should

Set sail across your own ocean

Like a knife in the sky, you'll fly

Like a dream, you'll never come down

False winds surround, pie in the sky

Bottle your needs for special interest

Pour out your soul in the foyer

What a way to live.