Lyrics

What the fuck? Let's begin with the premise That you are king--but then what? So let's begin with the perspective That everyone is correct--but then what? It's a glimpse of the material mess Of catching your breath in public Ecstasy's margin of error A glimpse of the material mess Of catching your breath in public Ecstasy's margin of error I cannot feel me And I cannot feel things With me hands My forehead is a tongue My tongue is a flower My flower is a fish My fish is a bird What the fuck? Let's begin to fight the good fight And not be swallowed alive By the bottomless pit inside of you I cannot feel me And I cannot feel things With me hands My bird is a belly button My belly button is an eyelid My eyelid is a fern My fern is a forehead One, one heroic act of passivity Is finally gonna open that bird One heroic act of passivity Is finally gonna open that fish One heroic act of passivity Is finally gonna open that flower One heroic act, someone appears On the other side of glass