Of Montreal Chaos Arpeggiating
Mountain City yellows they're not on the grounds they're in the wall
This loneliness is so distracting I'm barely missing you at all
Will I survive the Easter in this sloughy womb of noxious isolation?
No I can feel the sabers now in my illusionary casket
Now your charming little virus is getting all your attention
As I drag my chair up to the window to absorb some solar lashings
It's your saint's name day tomorrow but last year's paper wasps they are not living anymore
Why should I be scorned like some catalyst for famines when it's me who's been exiled in apartments?
Oh must I always be chaos arpeggiating?
Mountain City yellows I see them glitching through the floor
The minotaur of self abuse can't pick himself up anymore
Your last violent freak out was a eulogy to us
I was truly touched that you still cared enough to throw psychotic fits
And now I'm sparring with the no one, the void, the vacuum of conscience
As I mine the rust of my celebrity with snarls and mock laughter
I have the sense that you're wanting me to chase you
But what's the point? we can't be together without starting a row
