Tell me,
when did the beating start?
I found
it underneath a triangle frame
And made
it spread to quench a flame
Just like you I dreamed of cardboard robots
Designed to kill but still unable
Made from shoeboxes and broken cables
At the
height of schools we learned much
and from
tap dancing on hollow floors,
Forgot it
such
Dreams
disappeared like the corners of your toast,
Then
landed on my shoulders,
Chipped
until arms couldn’t be raised
When the
wire snapped I switched the string
The
bridge hadn’t broken but the cracks remained
It plays
back now into a broken record,
Into a
crescendo of only seconds
Little
did I know
The song
was written before we tasted it.
You wrote
the melody.
I, the
words.
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