This song is trying to juggle the requisite disenchantment and resolve that I'm experiencing as time marches ever toward inauguration day, and inevitably past it. There's something here about resentment of the shallow faith of others, and its petty power over all of us. There's something here about the heat death of the world. There's something here about the resilience of life, and its power to reawaken dead places. There's something here about revering nature more than God. There's something here to build upon, but it's still pretty elusive. I'm going to have to keep at this for a while. Vagueness suits me best right now because nobody knows a damn thing about what's going on, me least of all. I'm working on a plan that has no shape and no name. Perhaps you have some suggestions.
lyrics
Like the fear of an open flame
It's like the Bible was a book about nothing
A far off moon and the pearly gates
Lining up with our spacesuits pumping
All good earthlings look the same
They look like Jesus in a renaissance painting
I stab my palms and revere the pain
To paint my brothers and my sisters faces
So we're on the way up
The Earth dies a little bit sooner
In the crater at the center of this
A weed is growing like an angry witness
In the blast of the emperor's kiss
A seed is planted and we won't dismiss it
In the hole at the center of me
A green thing circles toward the light of something
Around my center all the vines can squeeze
A careful meter bound to get me pumping
So we're on the way up
The Earth cries a little bit louder