Ivory Tower
2006
Misunderstand me again
But I wont repeat it this time
I cut the promising hand
progressive high and sublime
A winters mind dressed for May today
But allow me to wear my green glasses
And instantly Im able to say
Something clever about declension classes
Knock on wood, or this old armchair
And I am the scientist
Skunky, theres blood on your bristle hair
And I hide my clenched fist
Dreams about a theatre
I wander with lust aside
Sheep in racing vehicles
I must confess, Ive never tried
To truly master this chaos of vowels
And magic, unspoken chemistry
With my tongue in my sacred naos
In my ivory tower of industry
