I'll show you a trick with ants: when
The sun's high in the sky, we can
Burn them up to crispy black shells.
See them crunched by old, slow, slick snails.

Light the fuse inside the dead bird.
Feather flurries rain on our heads.
Empty nest with three small brown eggs,
We'll think of something before the night falls.

"Don't hurt a fly", they all sang.
"Don't rape a girl in bright may,
Don't kill anyone ever,
Lay still and stand this fever".

The sun's just
A big glass.
We're all ants.
I love you.

"Don't hurt a fly", they all sang.
"Don't rape a girl in bright may,
Don't kill anyone ever,
Lay still and stand this fever".

The sun's just
A big glass.
We're all ants.
I love you.

See also:
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