Now we're trying to prop up this house with sticks
It's harder than it looks to you with your free-swinging dicks
It would seem that I'm in need of some therapeutic massages
There are some wonderful books with pictures, diagrams, and catharsis
The water table is rather full
It's almost as if we'd planned it to overflow
Just beneath our units the chickens are running amok
Inside of my belly their offspring have run out of luck
They obediently kept to their stations
You seized upon the situation
While I just watched the weeds grow up
Between the shingles and the foundation
The ants keep on making their way in
No matter how many we step on
The water table is rather full
It's almost as if we'd planned it to overflow
Oh, now I know that we will most likely
Choke on the chicken's bones
We stay sick as long as we stick to the
Narrative of the downward drift
We stay sick as long as we stick to the plan
Laid out by the invisible hands
We lose our patients once we slip our mitts
From the hands of the downward drifting man.
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