**The Vague Repository Of Man

I need to get away from these equation-breathing brainiacs
I need to get away from these axe-murdering maniacs
I need to get away from this suburban-dream lifestyle
get away from Nietzsche-reading, poet-quoting high-flyers

Hey, I got a problem, see if you can correct it
do a soundcheck on my headset 'coz right now I think I'm disconnected

One day I opened my head and my Brain fell on the floor
I was going to pick it up when I heard a knock on my door
On my lawn there was a man, he said "Could you please fill out this form."
I had no idea what was going on so I asked him kindly "Oh, what for?"

So he said "We make all the decisions and then you take all the blame."
"What the hell is this?", I said, "Can't you even tell me your name?"
"I am from the Commission, first question: what colour is your Brain?"
I said I'd bring my Brain for him 'coz I knew it would leave a stain...

I came back empty-handed 'coz I couldn't find my little Brainee
I said "Sorry, sir, I guess my Brain went out for some Tyne Daly..."
"But to answer your question, my Brain is red and a bit grainy."
He said "That's the problem right there 'coz it should be gray and veiny."

The next day I raised my head and my eyes went through the ceiling
I felt a burning sensation and overall a sick feeling
Then I caught myself wondering 'bout just why was I kneeling
I think my blood was filled with oxygen but yet I wasn't breathing

My next-door neighbour had just been caught for something he'd been dealing
All the kids around the neughbourhood were crazy going stealing
An image of these fire-eyed children never fleeting
From this holiday among the stars I'll send you a card of greeting

Where am I now, I can't remember, everything is shiny and white
Metal seats and potted plants and halls with extra height
This masked/man comes up to me, he has a green suit, quite bright
"Good morning, how're we feeling? You just put up quite a fight..."

I try to speak but can't and this masked/man scrapes me with a twig
He makes a deep cut and smiles and gives the wound a good lick
"This organic torture always gives my day a nice kick,
I'll meet you again later, I like your blood, it's not too thick."

The next day I rattled my head and my Brain felt kind of sore
I couldn't taste anything but still my mouth felt hardcore
The feeling was quite mutual with the man I met before
My eyes were racing with the stars and some forgotten lore

Seething from my ear there came a piece of my left eyebrow
This was always my fate I only recognized it now
Walruses and penguins shaking hands with a bright cow
Animals are people with less hair in their wheatflour

Treading underneath my thoughtprocesses, processing it across
A flailing hand grabs my neck and I beg help from the Red Cross
I need to proclaim myself as King by shouting "Who's the Boss!?"
Hanging from my chandelier is Hugo Boss who's saying "Buy my dental floss!"

Screaming and whailing like tyres in a Hollywood-movie
A jolting and burning in my forehead like the first days in juvie
I think I fainted or dreamt or died into a strawberry-smoothie
The last statement in my journal reads: I am a pool of Ruby.