Rationality Makes Me Sick

Rationality Makes Me Sick

Well you're so fucking organized

Rationality makes me sick

You trust your brain and trust and your eyes

On good days I throw bricks

You're not concerned

About lows and highs

When you're unhappy

The worst you do is cry

Well you're so fucking sensible

Rationality makes me puke

You can break me down in a crucible

Look me up in a book

You're so concerned

About what is right

Without distraction

You march into the light

Well you're so fucking delighted

Rationality makes me vom

It's types like you who get knighted

Types like you lead the prom

You're so concerned

About your prestige

Why don't you make a motion

To produce more grease

Well you're so fucking disciplined

Rationality makes me chunder

I can feel this primal land

Speaking through its thunder

You will never

Embrace the chaos

I follow the prophet

The saint of death and loss

The saint of death and loss

The saint of death and loss!

The Horde Marches

The Horde Marches

The idea should be

Specific and universal

The syntax should be multiplexed

Using form that suits theme

Felicitous choice of language

Should render meaning apparent

Without need for extraneous verbiage

Character defines tone and tone defines character

Delivery should be unaffected

We march to the pig skin beat

A sound that has echoed for thousands of years
Bouncing off the hills

Then concrete

A superstructure penetrates the mind

Like a mammoth tusk through a brave

And no more can be said

For the trampling of the horde

Each footstep a droplet

Drowns the voice

No one can hear

No one will know

No one.