The Machine Farm

Part 1: The Invention of the World


As a younger boy I knew
Autumn would come with maple leaves
And when a breeze came rushing through
They would swirl upward, spiraling
Reaching that place where I could hide

Spirit, I can hear you aching
Spirit, I can hear you breaking

As a younger boy, I played
Inside when it was raining,
Outside when it was not; pecans
Led trails to wondrous tundra
Of ancient places; now no longer sacred
Replaced by newer, faster lands
And softer, finer, richer sands'¦
(I woke up suddenly from this dream)
There are towers made of some things shiny
(With drenched sweatshirts piled on high)
And machines manufacturing
Machines, manufacturing
Machines, manufacturing
(I tried to scream, but was denied)
Machines, manufacturing
Mankind, manufacturing
Corn rows of steel, and so I sat
Where the leaves used to be at
In the daytime, I was selling
Lemonade
Chanting, raving, jumping, yelling
(They think me for a heretic)
So I spent the night in a paper bag
Trying to figure out arithmetic

Spirit, I can hear you aching
Spirit, I can hear you breaking

I can feel you rotting

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