The March Of The Elephants

The cistern burns
With the sisters who learn
That certainty burns with a fist
The cyst of this growth
The cyst of this growth
Is a hope against hope that I loathe
And steel myself to resist
I am an animal, unprepared
A club in a drawer full of silverware
I’m under there and breathilly holding
Her underwear is deserving a scolding
Disgrace is the color of red that you’re looking for
I’ll be wearing that, working convenience store
Fuck all the garbage in unforgiving piles
The landfills stretch out for ten thousand miles
The cities wear a badge that differentiates
But it’s the same exact shit that the dirt and sea hate
I am an animal, unprepared