The Poison

[Driving to work, these words started going through my head, so I wrote them down. I’m not entirely sure what they mean. – Owen]

You have to siphon off the poison,
Siphon off the poison;
You have to siphon off the poison,
While you still have life.

The day is like a madhouse, with
The many “I’s” that make a “me”;
I’m told to mind the details, so
I cross an “i” and dot a “t”

Or maybe that’s all backwards;
I don’t know, I am too tense —
Ethereal, and serial,
And liable to condense —

You have to siphon off the poison,
Siphon off the poison;
You have to siphon off the poison
Causing all the strife.

I saw man with many legs,
He had too many, in the main;
But from them, he was very rich,
A super-crural gravy train

He told me I could do with more,
By I have still have these aging two;
This strange and newfound paucity,
What is a man to do?

You have to siphon off the poison,
Siphon off the poison;
You have to siphon off the poison,
Please do not tempt fate —

You have to siphon off the poison,
Siphon off the poison;
You have to siphon off the poison,
Before it’s –

Too late

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