lyrics
Insect Man
He is a philosopher on man. / He owns a colony of ants- three-hundred million- in glass boxes under the stairs. / He is hatching roaches in the sink. / They each have numbers and a name from TV sitcoms. / There’s killing jars full of movie stars. / He lives by himself. / He never needed no one else in his master plan. / But I still wonder how I could ever work things out with the Insect Man. / I live down the hill on the same street. / Sometimes I stop to take a peek at his Indonesian spiders and find an excuse to stay for tea. / Sometimes I wonder if he notices me with my two arms and my two feet. / It’s just a shame my blood’s not green. / What can I do to make him see? / He lies all alone in his small bed. / While moths fly softly ’round his head, he moans and tosses and dreams of a butterfly queen.
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