Bearded Lady's Earwax Breakfast (Obtuse Angles.)

It's a cold day in the winter sun
Sets down hayfire to our beds
Microscopic giants roam the streets
To set our cars alight

Our homes are a harvest for the evil around
We smuggle it across the border
Subservience is our way to rule
We rule ourselves from the safety of view

Look to the skies, the sun is setting
It's just the world turning away
From every great star comes a lonely death
And a big black hole

I make my own blindfold,it comes out at night
Take arms against the decay
Shoe strings, heart strings, semi-blue pages
It's hardly a work of art.

Button the hatches, like every man should
Set sail across your own ocean
Like a knife in the sky, you'll fly
Like a dream, you'll never come down

False winds surround, pie in the sky
Bottle your needs for special interest
Pour out your soul in the foyer
What a way to live.