One for the bourgeoisie One for the row The pace of the guillotine's quickening Nothing can stop him for now --- I'll be fine Once I repatch these cables To my spine Thinning out like a skein of twine In the time it took to write you this song I could have crossed my last Rubicon But the memories of fantasies of melodies They strung me back along I want out, out Put me on a train anywhere South I want out, all out I'm prepared to drink a season of drought I'll shake off This dense desideratum Like a slough All hail to a mouth sewn shut! And in the time it took to write you this song I could have mapped a million ways home All the memories and fantasies were fallacies I'd missed it all along