Figment

You know my name is figment
I’m not who you think I am
All of my heroes are women
And all of them are cinnamon
My cinnamon women
The sanding sound of grudge on collective
Has left a pile of puzzle dust
And me cake-drunk in the middle
Crying, «What could never happen to us
Is happening to us»
But as long as we’re talking in driftnets
And there’s a rotation afoot
All the things that we can come up with
Will still be surprisingly put
As long as the road lacks perspective
As long as we swim, swim, swim
As long as we hold hands in the swiftness
Of all three dimensions
As long as we’re talking in driftnets
And there’s a rotation afoot
All the things that we can come up with
Will still be surprisingly put
Still be surprisingly put
Still be surprisingly put