I am the wizard, the awkward hawk-eyed wizard
Who's melancholy state of stubborn shows him the hard place
Up close and conjure elusive quandary
The dreamiest paranoia
Where's the rock, the rock, I wanna fix the rock
Talk it into being my pal
Better yet, my indolent silence-stood apprentice
But thanks, but no thanks but, there is no rock

Just me, in my gloomy hand-carved hard place
No student, no new chew toy for my boot leg
Hug and kiss to tear into ribbons
Worst of all, all my fuss and careful obsessing
It gets painted over with lacking and stuffed grotesque (?) missing
Now fruitless
I set meticulously sharpened traps for bugs
With ferocious little mechanized and securabling jaws
And throw away my junior wizard cap and wand
These pupils will be thinner and hopefully

(There's nothing, nothing...)

Now, I can smile at the cut-out moon
And pretend hardcore, it's comical and made of cardboard
meanwhile, I scamper in it's film about my quarters
Collecting all the intracate sprung death bundles
And free the teeny-weeny thingi-ma-jig is dropping them in their
Blues-seeping abdomen's inner jaw
One by.....

(Have you seen them? Have you seen them around?
I've heard them whispering in the dark somewhere between the floorboards,
And creeping in the house)

A cloud glass jar's our miracles
It's elliptical and made of dust
Resonance collecting, I tip-toe through wild guesses and wide eyes
Dipping, I hope it's cute, dipping my hairy knuckles in men's cuticles
Into the open jar, seconds...
A firm pinch invogorates the dying tense writhing critter
Wriggle, wriggles
I would like to look down it's throat
But it only snaps and hisses at my innocent crudely..
Bad, beasty, bad!
So be it, it's rectangular and made of ash

(I'm just looking for a friend,
I'm not looking for someone to break)

I lean back into the dim bizzare of my workspace
My neat and straight workspace
To, to seen just to (?)
I suck at sticking pearly stomachs
From a throbbing and caving thorax
I just can't seem to study
Talk in this poor eater's paradise
That leaves uncomfortable queer sandals
A sign, lost appetite, I lean aside
Leaning further, a yawn
Leaning further back
Crack a pointless pencil in my only pocket with no holes
Snaps in two, and pokes my skinny leg
Kinda reminds me of lightening

I don't believe in Zeus
But I'm scared stiff of clowns
Look, I'm making a wizard, surely man..

I don't believe in Zeus
But I'm scared stiff of clowns
Look, I'm making a wizard, and nearly happy..

It's circular and made of seasons
Pretty, ugly, pretty, ugly, pretty
Pacing from desk to sill
I turn my mirrors off and on and on and..
Then make believe the wolves are telling me it's midnight
Except it's just the last few hours howling
Night, night, I know my desk hates me
And so do the traps, jars, nervous ticks and loudmouth pointless pencils
It's okay, alright, because, cause
I'm good at writing and writing
Marry all it's cracks, chips and knots
Get them really pregnant
Then leave with it's friend the chair and all my stationary

(No, go, no...)

Yum, a breeze, carry me
I feel like the other sun
The riddles, blending with the stars
In with the crickets, tucked in the middle of somewhere
Chirping madly, I'll be happier alone
Naked, where no-one can ever find the crickets

Lyrics submitted by nueronic

Another Part Of The Clown's Brain song meanings
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