There's a beautiful place of invisible life where fragments of noise go to hide.
When their functions are lost they become static ghosts and hide in
shells and phones.
And much in this way, muscles everywhere petrify, they forget they're
alive, they only come out in seizures.
Just like the baby elephant
just like the baby elephant
artist of space she imagines her trunk in the
air like a paint brush
painting lucid shapes that
linger in the air
floating through her world
until her parents say
"Put that brush away, now eat and wash your face."
"You won't get a job,
what with your messy hair like that,
what with your shirt untucked in back,
might as well start talkin' as if you was black, aks instead of ask.
Who do you think you are? Who do you think you are?
Who do you think you are? Who do you think you are?"
"I'll tell you who I am.
I am a baby elephant
I am a baby elephant
playin' with my trunk and
tryin' to unlearn your silly fancy tongue.
Who do you think you are? Who do you think you are?
Who do you think you are? Who do you think you are?"

Baby elephant, beaten to the ground, lyin on my back, laughin laughin at the
Image in the air, images in the air, don't go away, I need you I need
you I need you
Catch you when you rain, seep into my veins
I'll bleed you from my mouth, bleedin' from my mouth
Phone call to a shell, image of a cell
Half dead and half alive
and Blood steeped like tea leaves the skin sings a cloud of red die


Bleed
Mix all our cells
Red and white bells
Playing our anthem

Steeped
Spread through the sky
Hot with the night
Still and expanding

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Beautiful seizure take us home.
Beautiful seizure take us home.