Winsor McCay

He was Winsor McCay
Reincarnate, reincarnate
Every day we'd say a prayer to save him
Robots fought for his life
Unsuccessfully, but then we can't beat a brain
To kill a mushroom softly growing

In the shadows, making space, making room
Choking fires, cracking skulls, sinking moods

Where's the angel
The spoiler-fitted flying angel
Her spines with flaps to stabilize her
She flew into the room just long enough to tease the spirit from him

You don't have a snowball's chance
Your kindness is like a dance
Walking slowly, distorting everything you see

Distortion is just like love
It's passionate, fucked-up stuff
What's the matter?
You wrote a hundred million songs

Songs praising the mutant race
Discovered in outer space
Heaven help us
If men like him are taken in

Robots hatched from an egg
Metal bodies, helicopters
This is the way that Logan flies from here to
Heaven drawn on a page
Blackbirds flying, swimming pools alive with his mind
Conceiving creatures never found in the books
But only sparking in the parts of his brain
Only a fungus would complain