He boldly rocks the mighty plains,
He drives an electrical train,
Trickles quick, expanding fast
Monuments not built to last.
He is my friend, he is my foe,
He is Apache Navajo,
When under pressure, he derails,
Reality beside him pales.
He makes me scream, he turns me out,
I twist his pointed head about,
A week or two, and sometimes more,
Before his brains wash up on shore.
He's clearly mad, he's quite a case,
And I should know, I share his face,
But I'm not using it right now,
I'm butchering the sacred cow.
But brain makes train and train rides brain,
No wonder that they're both insane,
The King and Queen in shadow murk,
Throw God's own hammer in the works.
In cloning room the circuits short,
Commanding mission now abort,
But pay attention, he's revealing,
King Sir Real-you'd best be kneeling.
He speaks the wisdom of the ages,
Tear Your scripture out by pages,
He tells you what you know, you think,
Or what you think you know, you think?
Now jumping up and down I see,
His evil face smile back at me,
Mirror image, but refracted,
Echo-noise keeps me distracted.
He takes advantage, grabs the reins,
And slows the electrical train,
brought allofher tremB
-ling
to a:dead.
stand-
;Still)
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