I'm claustrophobic all the time These visions in my head, bro It's an Orwellian sock puppet show It's like, "Who's this lunatic wearing my eyes? Okay, I like the things he says, but The beard though, the beard's ridiculous" I've been flipping through the inky little flipbook of our lives So many pictures of dark pockets there Probably a metaphor in that somewhere If this is a joke, then why aren't you laughing? If this is a joke, then I'm not literally dead I'm close to panic all the time All these shiny, grief-based fantasies These Plathian glass figurines so lovingly maintained in ordered lines Indulge the farmer in my brain, praying for rain