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lyrics

(The winter stands as sincere
The summer only implies
Autumn refuses to interfere
And the springtime simply never tries.)

An archer in an orchard shoots
At the bows the branches and the roots
To collect unseen insects
But instead eats the roots

A hundred hunters in a row
Huddled hugging guns and bows
All take aim at the same game
And miss when they let go

Dramatic direction, who knew I’m in a mid-skid
Intended infections, I’m out. I’m in a mid-skid
Demonstrative postures, too true I’m in a mid-skid
As sharp as a bottle, no doubt I’m in a mid-skid

I know we both said this before
So I’m sorry but, “I know the score.”
Me meandering, you cute pandering
And fission of the core

It’d be best if you forgot
All your useless caveats
Do they mean anything,
Anything at all?

Impassioned impassive, at an impasse in a mid-skid
Impressions in fractions, the impact of a mid-skid
Obsessive, responsive, at zero in a mid-skid

A mystery, a missed chance, a mid-skid and—

credits

from (the) Anatomy of Invisible Insects, released February 6, 2010
Co-written by Matt Korosi

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The Invisible Insects (Sweet Icing) Chicago, Illinois

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