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caroliner - transcontinental pinecone collector lyrics

the winter’s gone back over
to another portion of the sky
pick up the pocket belt and follow
the point pine line!
deeper into trails the woods become
flitty and complex. the rows are more
disjointed and the ground a disgusting
eyelash mess. fell degress of perverse
play, pine trees toss their stones, in each
a developed area, a more fantastic
treasure cone, whereas mankind has
built houses, the tree has built housing+
seeds. a more genuine apostle’s plan
fulfilling the mind’s structure+need
come with me outdoors and sing high
amongst the arms of the reeling pines
dropping scrubs & bunched cleaners for all
whimmed ideas, they cry ‘our pinecones
are perfect worldly purposeful gifts’
twist the formed sentineled magestic posts
palaces will sell the business of pipe brushes
the matter of collecting these cones in groups of
petagogic suffrages, an axiom neglected by
the caustic conscious of masses
this hermit of base truth squatting between
pineye lashes. endogenesis between the
trees, a sly perfection of needley green
having the fruits of laborous task to a following
flow free, scattered on the ground ripe
purchase beneath ~~~ now’s getting
those cones to follow me aft to some far off
palace will take some practice at
eulogic pine solace. the base of the tree
as judging by eye is the mind, i refer to it
by a name which sounds like wind in whine
yeeiee. it’s wound thinking in circles
capering in crocodile cloak whose antics
would if persued contrive and evoke, from
a silent mouse who never made voice
heard, singing collusion with a predatory
aggression of starved bird. this embezzlement
of evocation for it’s under+estimation
versifying by direct+ation an elusive
pertinent calculation. this mind with
spines has adopted to contrive myself
to evoke from my hosts the pines themselves!
using a foreign branch cast aside by another
i conduct the grotesque in concert of smother
branches droop down, i direct them to bow low
hoop shaping around hidden coins to moon and point
‘the root say to take the fruit and continue the
encircling poise’ so as a circle shouldered ache
touting creature+thing. i rolled with my cones in
pine caper style writhing

- caroliner lyrics

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