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Thirty-six miscarraiges, waiting for their fate. He'll set 'em up for another birth, so they'll spread, his seed and his name Geometry is an art, and an art is a faith, sein' Lines and angles and lines and angles and lines of angels cuz lines are angels but Some angels are good and some angels are bad And this beautiful vision is driving him mad, sing Father of a geometric vision Father of an invented religion Motherless children they're motherless children their father made love to himself in a dream and the semen he bled and the seed that he spread still wait to be born through the seed that he said was the way that his code would survive his own death kill all the rest eat all their heads take their nutrition and leave them for dead cuz if they can't be born they were born to be bled because all his life he's seen it comin' potent Songtextefrozen waiting motion inevitable like a car crash or a bursting damn or volcano its just tension and release tension and release and when it all goes down he'll be waiting like a thief with a notary public and video tape Thirty-six failed visions, each with a different face One sees atoms whose soft masses lie stable but wait like a nuclear bomb Another sees sex in this motion, sees shapes that sink and dissappear and then Reappear as stars condensed into a single, boiling, pulsing, patient point They're waiting for a Big Bang They're waiting for his senses to grasp The quiet foreplay of the fertile eggs The barely touching spheres and planes The slightest friction is a sweet romance That like any other will corrupt or collide Thirty-six soft eggs â?? ripped from the womb and laid on a table Their tender kisses arouse him, he sees the potential for exploding life A shaft in a hand, a bullet, a wick A manual gland, a snare and a kick and a crash And when it leaves us it keeps us attached To love is to free but alas The umbilical leash in our hands And then we're nothin' but little league dads and military ads Gettin' our K-K-Kids to K-Kick some ass But what would you have done I said what would you have done With a gift so damn ambiguous could be an apple or a gun But it's a horizontal firecracker horizontal firecracker horizontal firecracker horizontal firecracker You only live once, but you're dying all the time If you're not gonna have kids why not leave a record behind mine is a vinyl baby, being born as we speak His is a lovely number down in permanent ink Father of a geometric vision Father of an invented religion Aus Songtexte Mania