Lyrics
somethings gotten hold of my sense of pace
i think it might be what they call easter
forced into a shrunk piece of meat
and a giant´s holding my tounge
are these contortions meant to be to me?
are they employed by someone i know?
can they do dances i won´t dream of?
can they get smaller and pass on by?
ball? chain? can? box? is it neither?
box? ball? can? is it a circle?
i have to slow up - i have to slow up
these utensils plug in both the ways
what sort of things are they being made of
where is it that they´v ebeen engineered
or is it that they have been de-engineered
i´m in a bike where is it heading now
can it ride speeds that i´ve not invented
lately i´ve been re-inventing
i am a wheel
are you a chain
