They started measuring seconds In hundreds and tens And it was fake but it still made sense
Now blocks of sixty pass around the world What we invented is the present tense
I hate being a woman and I'd hate to be a man Sometimes I hope no one ever looks at me again
Sometimes I hope that when you look at me you want to break every finger in my hand
Masculine and feminine I'll never hear the end of it There's never any sense in it Just snap all my ligaments
It's not self-destructive if it was never me And it wasn't invented if it's always been
Time is realer than clocks are fake People matter more than words we hate
Sometimes there's use in phoniness It's time to give up all the rest
Maps on my wall, they get it all wrong We hate on Mercator but at least he got the shape right Screwed over the equator but he didn't set out to do We're moving on despite a semblance of use
There's no projection of me onto words so slim That get it right without distortion Drawing a world without her or him I could stop being lost
Sometimes there's use in phoniness It's time to give up the restTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
