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Schnitzel
They march along the clouded earth
The frosting grass, the mischief
Following the sun, his harp under arm
His humming dance, They march like ants
He’s a spade, he’s so gray, he’s so old
Watch his face unfold over the kingdom
Marching away the day
Marching away the riddle of the shade
Of his humming dance
Of jejune expression
The hauteur of penguin parades
The sorcerer of the eye, of his face unfolded
Of his face so cold, his face to mold
Of his knuckled hands aged to the bone
Watch his face unfold, like a get-well card
Like a newspaper, like a bedtime story
On a cold rainbow
Sleeping away the day
They drop their trades without me
March in dusty snow, in the vision of the sun
A penguin parade marching without me
Marching like a cold,
Like ants upon a hill of destiny
A destiny without me
As I sleep away the years
As I dream without a care
I’ve missed true love a hundred million years
I’m stuck in this dusty desolation
In the clouds of their trade
Creating a path to destiny
Forbidden like my past
Forbidden like the sun’s bearing stare
Why do I care?
