Busy at home
I was happy for a while
But the joke is over
Looking down
At the carefully laid out infamy
Take a scythe, take a scythe,
To the rotting core
Of man-vegetaton
Now I sigh
At the cool cool attitude to ignorance
The look in your eyes
When you gave this to me
Just put me on my guard
In this elegant chaos
I stand to one side
Shouting "ha"
It?s not a problem of secrecy
I take it in my stride
Did I learn to breathe to be killed like this?
Faces to the glass
I see them televise my death
Oh, and here comes the part
Where I break down and cry.
People I see