A fairly easy-to-figure-out poem.
this entry brought to you by tool, "the patient"
I haven't decided what to call this. I'm thinking about calling it simply "Blue", and while that fits the refrain, I don't know if it fits the theme of the poem.
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Because birth is sold like it's ergonomic
You could test it with basic arithmetic
Like a little salt poured over a sifting pan
Quickly replaced by Fool's Gold sand
I'd like to talk to you at length about history
The boring, ever-growing old story
The birds and the bees make the same mistakes
I'd beg to differ, but I can't fight off all the fakes
Because you're still new
You'll have less explaining to do
But hold your breath until you're blue
Keep holding your breath until you're blue
There's a really bad song I can't remember right now
About signs of the times and the lost and the found
Trying to grow up with all the bad news can be hard
Empty terrorist threats can leave you apathetically scarred
I'd have a word with them all but we've had a falling out
With or without them all I still can have crippling doubt
Could promise a journey to the promised land
Make it one-way and hire me a helping hand
Because you're still new
You'll have less explaining to do
But try again until you're blue
Keep trying again until you're blue
-----
with love from CRS @ 8:13 PM
Thursday, July 08, 2004
I haven't decided what to call this. I'm thinking about calling it simply "Blue", and while that fits the refrain, I don't know if it fits the theme of the poem.
-----
Because birth is sold like it's ergonomic
You could test it with basic arithmetic
Like a little salt poured over a sifting pan
Quickly replaced by Fool's Gold sand
I'd like to talk to you at length about history
The boring, ever-growing old story
The birds and the bees make the same mistakes
I'd beg to differ, but I can't fight off all the fakes
Because you're still new
You'll have less explaining to do
But hold your breath until you're blue
Keep holding your breath until you're blue
There's a really bad song I can't remember right now
About signs of the times and the lost and the found
Trying to grow up with all the bad news can be hard
Empty terrorist threats can leave you apathetically scarred
I'd have a word with them all but we've had a falling out
With or without them all I still can have crippling doubt
Could promise a journey to the promised land
Make it one-way and hire me a helping hand
Because you're still new
You'll have less explaining to do
But try again until you're blue
Keep trying again until you're blue
-----
