Locked inside a moving car Flopping in the trunk Going through I think a tunnel Counting every bump I hear murmurs from the front, broken up I don't even know what's going on Isn't that something? Take me the long way round Think of all the poems I'll get out Choking my spit, it's a serious thing Finally some meat, some lines for me Set them up all nice And in a row Tracing every lonely mark On the basemant wall Calling out from every corner Until somebody comes This whole thing is so extra, so bizarre I don't even know what's going on I hear them coming Take me the long way round Think of all the poems I'll get out Turning on a spit, how sickning Finally a show, with lines for me Set them up all nice And in a row