This is about bronies. They communicate by stomping.
Busy at home
I was happy for a while
But the joke is over
Looking down
At the carefully laid out infamy
Take a scythe, take a scythe,
To the rotting core
Of man-vegetaton
Now I sigh
At the cool cool attitude to ignorance
The look in your eye
When you gave this to me
Just put me on my guard
In this elegant chaos
I stand to one side
Shouting “ha”
Was I forced into this?
Or was it given to me?
It’s a nice idea -
As a gift
Or as something to try for a while
70 years?
It’s neither one thing nor the other
My big fear
Is to dig it at last
And have it taken away
The look in your eyes
When you gave this to me
Just put me on my guard
In this elegant chaos
I stand to one side
It’s not a problem of secrecy
I take it in my stride
Did I learn to breathe to be killed like this?
Faces to the glass
I see them televise my death
Oh, and here comes the part
Where I break down and cry.
People I see
Just remind me of mooing
Like a cow on the grass
And that’s not to say
That there’s anything wrong
With being a cow anyway
But people are people
With the added advantage
Of the spoken word
We’re getting on fine
But I feel more of a man
When I get with the herd.
I was happy for a while
But the joke is over
Looking down
At the carefully laid out infamy
Take a scythe, take a scythe,
To the rotting core
Of man-vegetaton
Now I sigh
At the cool cool attitude to ignorance
The look in your eye
When you gave this to me
Just put me on my guard
In this elegant chaos
I stand to one side
Shouting “ha”
Was I forced into this?
Or was it given to me?
It’s a nice idea -
As a gift
Or as something to try for a while
70 years?
It’s neither one thing nor the other
My big fear
Is to dig it at last
And have it taken away
The look in your eyes
When you gave this to me
Just put me on my guard
In this elegant chaos
I stand to one side
It’s not a problem of secrecy
I take it in my stride
Did I learn to breathe to be killed like this?
Faces to the glass
I see them televise my death
Oh, and here comes the part
Where I break down and cry.
People I see
Just remind me of mooing
Like a cow on the grass
And that’s not to say
That there’s anything wrong
With being a cow anyway
But people are people
With the added advantage
Of the spoken word
We’re getting on fine
But I feel more of a man
When I get with the herd.
Lyrics submitted by Bratt
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"And that�s not to say That there�s anything wrong With being a cow anyway"
I just love the conversational style of this song. And the melody is sublime.
I can't believe this is the first comment.
Some people have no taste...
@matthewsheffield Most people have no taste !
... and 5 years later another comment.
Great song which is a big part of a chapter in my life, getting on for 20 years after it was written. For me it's about the perceived concept of normality all being a bit shit, and then the rejection of it.
As matthewsheffield says just an enjoyable lurch through 4 minutes...
And another one for good luck !
Simply gorgeous .
Its about life isn't it? This Elegant Chaos = Life. He is talking to God, he wants know if his life is "a gift Or as something to try for a while" But then we only get our biblical 3 score and 10. "70 years?" He worries he'll only "get it" when he is close to the End. He is wary of God's motives. He is not convinced by The Spectacle, but decides to stop questioning stuff and participate in it anyway.