Locked inside a moving car
Flopping in the trunk
Going through I think a tunnel
Counting every bump
I hear murmurs from the front, broken up
I don't even know what's going on
Isn't that something?
Take me the long way round
Think of all the poems I'll get out
Choking my spit, it's a serious thing
Finally some meat, some lines for me
Set them up all nice
And in a row
Tracing every lonely mark
On the basemant wall
Calling out from every corner
Until somebody comes
This whole thing is so extra, so bizarre
I don't even know what's going on
I hear them coming
Take me the long way round
Think of all the poems I'll get out
Turning on a spit, how sickning
Finally a show, with lines for me
Set them up all nice
And in a row
