This song seemingly tackles the methods of deception those who manipulate others use to get victims to follow their demands, as well as diverting attention away from important issues. They'll also use it as a means to convince people to hate or kill others by pretending acts of terrorism were committed by the enemy when the acts themselves were done by the masters of control to promote discrimination and hate. It also reinforces the idea that these manipulative forces operate in various locations, infiltrating everyday life without detection, and propagate any and everywhere.
In general, it highlights the danger of hidden agendas, manipulation, and distraction, serving as a critique of those who exploit chaos and confusion to control and gain power, depicting a cautionary tale against falling into their traps. It encourages us to question the narratives presented to us and remain vigilant against manipulation in various parts of society.
(spoken)
There is almost nothing worse in the world than to have a brief glimpse—of clarity, of the Absolute, of All and Everything—and to realize that that is as close as you will ever get, because you have not been chosen.
It is even worse to realize that you WERE chosen and that you failed to meet the challenge; to realize only too late that you had a chance to truly make a difference in this world and you rejected the offer, either out of fear, or disinterest, or lack of belief in your destiny.
You could've been a savior, a messiah, even—and in this age that would have meant magazine covers, television appearances, movie deals, book deals, women, men, dolphins—whatever you like. And that reminds me of something I've been thinking about. You know how they have bestiality? Is there like a thing like a fetish for fucking seafood? Like trying to see how many octopus legs you could take up your ass at one time? Or electric eels? Or like fucking a whale in the blowhole? Or like trying to get a dolphin to blow you? Dolphins are very smart; they could learn how to give blowjobs. You could get a blowjob or at least a flipperjob from a—well, maybe not you, but maybe, like, you gotta figure someone out there somewhere has gotten a blowjob from a dolphin. Maybe like a Dr. Dolittle type who could talk to the animals, learn their languages, and teach the dolphins how to please him. Or her, maybe, I don't know.
And I figure those S&M folks are really missing out if they've never used lobsters for nipple clamps. There's all this possibility out there, and it's gotta make you wonder, what's wrong with you? That time that God spoke to you and showed you the way, clear as day, and you were like "No way; too much work; I'm busy; I'm too tired; I don't even believe in you anyway; what's in it for me?"—well, you fucked up, didn't you? You sell your soul to the devil, you get like four dollars, but if you had come when God called, you would have gotten whatever you want—a nose job, a fifty-inch TV set, a waterbed filled with Calista Flockhart's urine, whatever you want. But you said no to God, and now you'll NEVER get to go out with Christina Ricci. You'll NEVER get a Chitty Chitty Bang Bang car that can float and fly. You'll NEVER get to visit Mars, or the future, or Marrakesh. But you never know: many are called, but few are chosen, but some are chosen more than once. You might get another chance. There is always hope.
There is almost nothing worse in the world than to have a brief glimpse—of clarity, of the Absolute, of All and Everything—and to realize that that is as close as you will ever get, because you have not been chosen.
It is even worse to realize that you WERE chosen and that you failed to meet the challenge; to realize only too late that you had a chance to truly make a difference in this world and you rejected the offer, either out of fear, or disinterest, or lack of belief in your destiny.
You could've been a savior, a messiah, even—and in this age that would have meant magazine covers, television appearances, movie deals, book deals, women, men, dolphins—whatever you like. And that reminds me of something I've been thinking about. You know how they have bestiality? Is there like a thing like a fetish for fucking seafood? Like trying to see how many octopus legs you could take up your ass at one time? Or electric eels? Or like fucking a whale in the blowhole? Or like trying to get a dolphin to blow you? Dolphins are very smart; they could learn how to give blowjobs. You could get a blowjob or at least a flipperjob from a—well, maybe not you, but maybe, like, you gotta figure someone out there somewhere has gotten a blowjob from a dolphin. Maybe like a Dr. Dolittle type who could talk to the animals, learn their languages, and teach the dolphins how to please him. Or her, maybe, I don't know.
And I figure those S&M folks are really missing out if they've never used lobsters for nipple clamps. There's all this possibility out there, and it's gotta make you wonder, what's wrong with you? That time that God spoke to you and showed you the way, clear as day, and you were like "No way; too much work; I'm busy; I'm too tired; I don't even believe in you anyway; what's in it for me?"—well, you fucked up, didn't you? You sell your soul to the devil, you get like four dollars, but if you had come when God called, you would have gotten whatever you want—a nose job, a fifty-inch TV set, a waterbed filled with Calista Flockhart's urine, whatever you want. But you said no to God, and now you'll NEVER get to go out with Christina Ricci. You'll NEVER get a Chitty Chitty Bang Bang car that can float and fly. You'll NEVER get to visit Mars, or the future, or Marrakesh. But you never know: many are called, but few are chosen, but some are chosen more than once. You might get another chance. There is always hope.
Lyrics submitted by Eamon
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