Room

Little from little day, in rhythmic hate
My words go where I fear to tread, and mate
With metal, all things chemically cold
To show submission, stutter in the old
Creases, logically crass, out of shape

Leaving a wild white shadow in their wake
My signature debris is somewhat late
The sly scratch of a needle's nail has sold
Little from little day

And so I fumble other heads, and stake
A claim for division. Watch the rooms shake
Watch another world retching out its moulds
'Cogitas ergo sum' is what I'm told
A branded ego dies but still I take
Little from little day



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