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april 1830 - the march lyrics

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i’ve been here ten thousand years and haven’t found a door.
the typewriter’s run out of ink but cl!cks just like before.
hands pressed down, the keys are saws, and soon the moon will wane.
i fear that i may never die, and only i’m to blame.

father pendulum could point to any book or brab,
and when it does he’ll point to me, and maybe we’ll confab.
thence from throat, out of my reach, he’ll choke up b+tter knives,
and i will smile as he attacks and let go of my lifе.

- april 1830 lyrics

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