Musty red mock velvet
A platform for the dirty blue
For the rag of dank absorption
For the wafer-thin mattress that cushions
A bitten fleece of weak reward
To smother little deaths
And other spillage, seepage, discharge
From the world
These are the remnants that recreate
The place that we bring with us, the refuge that pursues us
And waits for information, a platform, a stage, even
For the re-enactment, the preservation, the perpetuation
Of the static myth of the self
A curtain to draw across the deeds
That no-one really pries for
A blind to wind around the signs
That no-one thinks to try for
A spirit too mean to care to be seen
A soul disowned by physical entity
Dirty and practical
That is the way it is supposed to be
These are the remnants that recreate
The place that we bring with us, the refuge that pursues us
And waits for information, a platform, a stage, even
For the re-enactment, the preservation, the perpetuation
Of the static myth of the self
LamEND
A platform for the dirty blue
For the rag of dank absorption
For the wafer-thin mattress that cushions
A bitten fleece of weak reward
To smother little deaths
And other spillage, seepage, discharge
From the world
These are the remnants that recreate
The place that we bring with us, the refuge that pursues us
And waits for information, a platform, a stage, even
For the re-enactment, the preservation, the perpetuation
Of the static myth of the self
A curtain to draw across the deeds
That no-one really pries for
A blind to wind around the signs
That no-one thinks to try for
A spirit too mean to care to be seen
A soul disowned by physical entity
Dirty and practical
That is the way it is supposed to be
These are the remnants that recreate
The place that we bring with us, the refuge that pursues us
And waits for information, a platform, a stage, even
For the re-enactment, the preservation, the perpetuation
Of the static myth of the self
LamEND