lirik lagu michael tilson thomas - who goes there?
who goes there? hankering, gross, mystical, nude?
how is it i extract strength from the beef i eat?
what is a man anyhow? what am i? what are you?
all i mark as my own, you shall offset it with your own
else it were time lost listening to me
i do not snivel that snivel the world over
that months are vacuums and the ground but wallow and filth
that life is a stuck and a sell, and nothing remains at the end but threadbare crepe and tears
whimpering and truckling fold with powders for invalids; conformity goes to the fourth~removed
i c~ck my hat as i please inside or out
why should i pray? why should i venerate and be ceremonious?
having pried through the strata, ~n~lyzed to a hair, counseled with doctors and calculated close
i find no sweeter fat than sticks to my own bones
in all people i see myself, none more and not one a barleycorn less
and the good or bad i say of myself, i say of them
i know i am solid and sound
to me, the converging objects of the universe perpetually flow
all, all are written to me, and i must get what the writing means
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