Until nothing means anything anymore.
Until I spill the liquid running the machine,
Until I scream.
I won't go for a while.
I used to run over things, through things.
Now I watch.
None of this means anything anymore.
I want to mean something--
"Too many metaphors," he says.
"They get in the way."
So what if I don't want you understanding what I'm saying?
If you starve on gaps, go back to the boring stuff.
I didn't create all the mysteries.
Communication was born clothed.
It only lies to you if you want.
You can want it to be true if you choose.
And anyway, I don't care what you want to make it mean;
I mean something of my own,
And I'll change it how I want.
Burden to you.
I can't carve the toy soldier you imagine;
So take my words instead and carve what you will.
Words are like clay anyway.
You make them what you want,
But let me keep the original.