Like spinning plates they screech and skate
And stain the dress of Al the Great
With tears and blood and the finest wine in the Universe
No one really calls for help
For help is none in the eyes of the helped
But fellatio to power that words can’t address
Oh explain to me: was it for nigh?
Was I a pawn and if so why?
Sebastokratorissa, you must be high

The gazes cross like liquid swords
That add up above ever more
Forming hysterical clouds of the deepest of purples
Thrones are burned and thrones are made
They cut your hair with a rusty blade
And now the only way you can look is behind you
Oh explain to me this ceaseless prying
Was I to act when Nagy was dying?
Sebastokratorissa, why are you crying?

It’s raining gender on San Fran
The priest eats molly from a tin can
And no one but their hairdresser knows that they are trippin’
The black and silver blend like milk
With honey in those eyes of silk that don’t want to talk about it
No they don’t want to talk about it
Oh explain to me what do I see?
Was I just murdered by decree?
Sebastokratorissa, your hand is on my knee

The cycles grow in rings of fire
Circulating through the empire
That will ebb and fall like every star before it
The flatness of the mountain tops
The dust and bugs that once were crops
Are seeping through the kitchen – it’s disgusting
Oh explain to me: will I grow old?
Was I just swimming in liquid gold?
Sebastokratorissa, are you cold?

Bombs, cries and bicycle bells
Down in the street their echo dwells
But thank him deafness is an accessible virtue
The car show in the coliseum
The eyes that buy, the kids that see ‘em
One day will wield sonatas and masses like rifles
Oh explain to me: how can it snow?
Was I above and life below?
Sebastokratorrisa, I love you so

With or without an elephant gun
The right words will fool anyone
And even rightness may well fool itself in the process
All kinds of pasts rise in the air
Like flaming locks of auburn hair
Beneath them on what’s left of the dock of the bay
Oh explain to me, I need to know
Was I an actor in their show?
Sebastokratorissa, I should go

And so I went without my guns
Kept warm by three identical suns
The same in a relative way, at each new footstep
And if I could make a deal with God
I’d get an RV in Cape Cod
And I’d run up the hill just to hear my own mouth breathing
Oh explain to me, Oracle of Delphi
Was I poor or was I wealthy?
Sebastokratorissa – really? A selfie?