Hobo Placing Lyrics

Bad Night?
No new dimension
Impersonators nowhere to be found
But what is to be expected?
Nothing to smash
But should you be in the mood
There will be plenty of glass there
And typhoons of thought
Each one could envelop
Something one degree greater than itself

Until there is nothing left to say

Nothing to see here
Cross the road carefully
Abstract things
Still threaten on the horizon
Tasks can be apportioned
But the layers of your privilege will rot away
And so expose the pain that we feel
At being given tasks to do
We dare you to refuse
Just as we will
When given anything resembling an opportunity

Heated loser laughing
Neglected winners pissing
Vomiting prawns down their vests
These are the outcomes
Of my thought-marathon
Contestants: I'm sorry!
I tried not to beleaguer you
But I did it all the same
Small lists recede
Left well behind
Dotted expeditions
Multiplying excavations
So many things to write
So many things not to write
And nothing in-between

When they are looming straight up at you
When springs are curling deftly beneath you
It could all go wrong
Do not limit your wishes
Men need their tonic
You have never been so lucky