it's all the same to my eyes
easy streets or straits dire
and all the world is a tripwire
I wonder what...we're settin' off tonight
it's all pretty lights and loud sounds
enough of everything to drown out
what we don't care to see or hear right no
overloaded
something simply snapped
tweaked a nerve
and that was that
seems like a bit of overkill
who would break a butterfly on the wheel
scratch an itch with a ton of steel
and not feel a thing
down at the benthic corral
the Lazy B at the bottom of the sea
we found it crowded up above
and we just love your oceans
surprised to have our run of the place
such prime real estate
but that's o.k.
we prefer it this way
my favorite chore is r
the mineralist miniaturist
chisels away
running a special blend across his lips
various rock dusts and clays
working on such a tiny scale
a wider view strikes him as strange
magnifying glass attached to his face
he still feels it when he's away
