Epilogue
(
MySpace.com - The Incredible Flying Torture Orchestra - CHICAGO, Illinois - Experimental / Concrete / Healing & EasyListening - www.myspace.com/tifto)
The burden of dust grows greater day by day
As I wait to be found
The reaction, I expect,
Will be no different from that of a bear
Trapped inside a well
Slowly sinking into a thick, numbing gelatinous substance
And experiencing its claws turning into dust
That is to say, when he finds me here,
He will know that his methods of attack and defense have crumbled
But very quickly, he will feel nothing
For now I sit and consider the aesthetic effects of my-
Undertaking upon the carefully balanced tones
Of the wall and ceiling
Pollock's brush is gripped tightly in my hand
It trembles in anticipation of the blasphemous act
I count down the seconds but my pulse is slow and irregular
10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...
Nothing yet.
You will know the devil by his footsteps
Because he has the hooves of a goat
For God, in his infinite wisdom, marred all his most
Wretched creations physically... or mentally
So that man could recognize the evil manifest within
The clicking of his crippled leg will seal the killer's fate
What's it called to kill a king?
Regicide... deicide... fratri-
[Clicking sounds]
[Door opens]
[Two gunshots, placed two beats apart]