The Books - Smells Like Content lyrics

Balance, repetition, composition, mirrors. most of all the world is a place where parts of wholes are described within an overarching paradigm of clarity, and accuracy, the context of which makes possible an underlying sense of the way it all fits together despite our collective tendency not to conceive of it as such. but then again, the world without end is a place where souls are combined, but with an overbearing feeling of disparity, disorderliness, to ignore it is impossible without getting oneself into all kinds of trouble despite one's best intentions not to get entangled with it so much. and meanwhile the statues are bleeding green, and others are saying things much better than we ever could, as the quiet become suddenly verbose. and the hail is heralding the size of nickels, and the street corners are gnashing together like the gears inside the head of some omniscient engineer, and downward flows the garnered wisdom that has never died. when finally we opened the box we couldn't find any rules. our heads were reeling with a glut of possibilities, contingencies, but with ever increasing faith we decided to go ahead and just ignore them despite tremendous pressure to capitulate and fade. so instead we went ahead to fabricate a catalog of unstable elements, and modicums, and particles with non-zero total strangeness for brief moments which amount to nothing more than tiny fragments of a finger snap. and meanwhile we're furiously sleeping green, and the map has started tearing along its creases due to overuse, when, in reality, it's never needed folds. and the air's withholding the sound of a twelve-string, and our heads are approaching a density reminiscent of the infinite connectivity of the center of the sun, and therein lies the garnered wisdom that has never died. Expectation leads to disappointment. If you don't expect something big, huge and exciting, usually uh, I don't know, it's just not as, yeah.