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Voices turning to burps turning to butterflies turning to butterfly turning to
Voices burning to the ground turning to butterfly dust turning to butterfly turning to
Voices turning to burps turning to butterflies turning to butterfly ashes

Clusters of agents enveloped in egregorous fake love, the truest fake love ever, the cruelest
Turning their back in a loving roundelay squinting their eye at a neighbour,
Neighbouring cluster being wack being flaky alas
I am one and a multiplicity too,
with no credo

Clusters of angels, never stinky never yuk always yum
Sticking together in an epheral gum
Forming a body of feeling, so dumb
Transcendental stupidity is not forever,
I am telling you, we are

we have been doing this: