Sentient Spiritual Spirograph Scribbles Sorcery Sigils

before I disappear I form a fossil shaped by fear fresh thoughts have gone up dry yet old habits still multiply my waking life is said and done I'm just this script I have become no good solution can be found let's burn this whole thing…

who spies butterflies as they flutterby butterflies better hide as prying eyes rely on light to spy

You sent me light years away to have a look at a cartoon dog and a two dimensional pancake. I'm cold and sick of being motion sick.

Written remotely via an iPod from my couch, since the space heater was on, and I didn't feel like walking five steps to the computer. Oh -- I need to come up with some deep philosophical meaning to the song. Right. Humans are trying to communicate…