Meaning is evident only while taking note of the lack thereof    Suffer while I contemplate, I'll dream you up some futile love    Steaming heaps of nonsense lie where moral agents tread    When Wanting yanks we don't resist    The Hedonist The subtle thread    It's unseen but strong, it's just like this song    that's unwittingly, and cryptically sung unto me    by shuffling feet and quiet speech    I peer into an almost empty room and somehow detect grief       Lament your emptiness! Your irrelevant sentiment    I alone detect your sorrow    You can bawl into my open wounds    Just remain to haunt me tomorrow    Describe in song your boredom    and I will sing back of its kin    Of the ambient futility that lingers among men       Such futility did indeed succeed in revealing to me that I, and we, are completely free    Free to breathe each breath as if death were the thread to the next       The meaning I can muster from the complete lack thereof    The nothingness I suffer fills me past my brim with love    I evade the steaming heaps of nonsense    I am nimble as the dead!    I am yanked by mere Wanting and I resist    I break the thread    and thereby detach from where it led    Was I not ever-stitched to Mercy?    Was Wanting not Her unwanted child?    When I run amok in seamlessness the threads break every time I smile    I linger in this doorway and She tells me to come in    To be still in her solemnity    I laugh hysterically instead       She's unseen but strong    She's just like this song    that's unwittingly, and cryptically sung unto me.