Nobody knows my true indentity
For all we know I'm John F Kennedy's
Love child with Nosferatu
We can't know, but still we got to
Nobody knows how deep this mystery goes,
But ancient caveman history shows:
We're all descended from the same evil alien slime
And it's a pretty shade of gray
It makes the woodwork eat away
Glass breaks and cow's milk curdles
It glows in the dark and it mutates turtles
Somebody told me something interesting
They told me the world is always tempesting
Round and around again
I've had enough of that pseudo-Zen
Somebody else was watching from afar,
Screwing it up like a broken VCR
She thought that I was very insincere, because
I rolled my eyes a bit too much
Am I really that out of touch?
Why should I care about this?
I'm not concerned with the things I miss
I don't see the point in not believing in
Things you can taste like fear and cinnamon
Sadly this hasn't gotten me anything but dread and gluttony
Under the ground is where I wanna go
Surely there is a way, but I dunno
How to get there No one seems to know, actually, so
I tried to use a garden spade,
But it was very poorly made
It broke into so many pieces
It's times like these that I wish had
Telekinesis