Ilium by IainDavie Lyrics

Ilium

At Ilium the one became the fifty
The fifty eight and one
The cross that showed inferior
A process they'd begun

Blinded by the singer
Orientings flood in plain
There was a certain winner
For this Olympic game

For in confusions battle
To the nature of the same
Their is some now to rattle
With stagnation now their lame

For humanities the casualty
Of this group of clever dicks
When you understand reality
That they are a bunch of pricks
Thunder with a clarity
The wind upon the sea
The belly of late autumn
For the sea is in the tree

For there's few that really understand
The weaving of the word
And that is just as it was planned
In this theatre of absurd

The key is quite syntactical
The symbols they compute
In a manner that is tactical
But to know, is too refute

Thus upon this bed linguistic
Of what binds; and blinds
Unlocks the deep heuristic
And represses normal minds