I thought I was angry
You spilt the uncollected blood
I chose a word of fancy
You knew; my own milk wood
Luddites in the valley
Geese in grandma's yard
The pictures of tomorrow
Sally, kissing old Tom Stoppard
That butterfly
Caught up in the spiders web
She swayed
With some knowledge of chaos theory
Flap long and hard enough
Dazed but not confused
You will always get away
Unscathed but bruised
I thought I was angry
You asked me if I could
I spoke of Reagan's Nancy
You know, that kind of neighbourhood
You can't break the machines now lad
You know; the looms and such stuff
You see with smoke and mirrors
We've bought the software bluff
