They say that men think about sex twice as often as they think I think that there is too much stress placed on the secret meanings of things They say that if you chew your ice it means you’re loneliest at night So you bite through frozen feelings But I just think it’s very nice to tear right through Their crystalline structures So don’t tell me Don’t tell me why Why I do, do what I do I don’t know, I don’t know Don’t know why I chew the cubes It’s just what I do It’s just what I Just what I do Some people say that parlor tricks are unfit for company Instead they see displays of wit as worthy of complaining They say it took Rubik four weeks to unscramble every piece His 54 faces grace us with God’s number I just know that it feels so right to slide each slice into its Fourth-dimensional chamber So don’t tell me Don’t tell me why Why I do, do what I do I don’t know, I don’t know Don’t know why I solve the cube It’s just what I do It’s just what I Just what I do They say that Van Gogh lost his ear so he couldn’t hear his demons What part of yourself would you cut off if you couldn’t wake from dreaming? There are still some who draw a line and say that art belongs in times And moving backwards is an illegal motion But I think there’s an ebb and tidal flow, there’s miles to go ‘cause Style’s a pretty big ocean So don’t tell me Don’t tell me why Why I do, do what I do I don’t know, I don’t know Don’t know why I sculpt the cubes It’s just what I do It’s just what I Just what I do So tell me Please tell me why Why must art be origami’d into a box and held under a lock and key? Why can’t it be free? How can a thing just be a thing And still be nothing? This is not a pipe, this is not, this is not a fist fight, why can’t I be free? I want to be free, ‘cause if I were free No, no, no, no, no, nobody, nobody, nobody would ever, ever, ever have to pay for me Why can’t I be free? Why can’t I be? Why can’t I be? Why can’t I be A cube

I’m not afraid of grey hairs, I’m afraid of grey memories She’s not afraid of the air, she’s afraid of the way that we breathe I’m not afraid of the stairs, I’m afraid of the wit that won’t find me there You’re not afraid of the stress, you’re afraid of the dress that you’ll never wear I know, I know What keeps you up at night You should, you should know It keeps me up sometimes too But what can we do? What can we do? I’m not afraid of regret, I’m afraid I’ll forget what got me here She’s not afraid of your debts, She’s afraid of what’s left when you’re in the clear I’m not afraid of safe bets, I’m afraid I might get cards I’ll have to play You’re not afraid of the end, you’re afraid of your friends and what you need to say I know, I know What keeps you up at night You should, you should know It keeps me up sometimes too But what can we do? What can we do? We could run and jump off the cliff Cause if there’s a barrel waiting It could fire us up to the end flag So we could return to the level map So I could find a new path To take me back home to you But what can we do? What can we do?

Slim pickings this harvest, so I listen for a messenger from the West To tell me that somebody has got something for me to peruse Slim picking this harvest, so I wait for something more honest When you tell me you want to see me, I don’t think there’s a way I can lose Pretty Jars reflect my stars better than the windshields of flying cars Pretty Jars shine like stars brighter than the headlights of flying cars So I won’t farm these dusty fields no more and I might even turn down a few free bushels just left on my door but I promise that I won’t starve while I wait for preserves in pretty jars So I won’t farm, I’ll do my best to keep my hands out the dirt and I’ll occupy myself with a new definition of work And even if I never eat the food within, I will turn down dirt to look at pretty jars Pretty Jars reflect my stars better than the windshields of flying cars Pretty Jars shine like stars brighter than the headlights of flying cars

It’s time to celebrate ’cause every day is birthday day Grab a cake and candles, hand out party hats It’s time to party like we’re party cats Scritch scratch, take a nap I’ll a save you a place right on my lap Let’s kick back, go ape, escape a heart attack By jumping on a rhino’s back Take that, think fast The hardest level is the past It’s time to celebrate (Come join me on a date) ’cause every day is birthday day Find a path through trees, a breeze through marshy grass So much art you’ll have an art attack Scritch scratch, autograph You must sign your joke to make it last A museum amuses them with surly staff Critics cooing over crappy craft Your laugh might crack The secret lines behind the plaque I can see how small you are, hiding behind that candle If we set your art on fire, it would surely cause a scandal But that doesn’t mean we should stop We will burn this gallery to cinder and rock And let’s not forget that today Is time to celebrate Every day is birthday day! So great, so great, let’s have a parade ‘cause everyday is birthday day!

I considered writing down all my fears on a single blank sheet But I don’t know where to buy big rolls of butcher paper I considered telling you that I suffer from Agoraphobia-phobia That I’m afraid that one day I’ll be too afraid to leave my house That my couch will be my cloister And my habits my attire And the ants in their cells my monks I considered setting all my fears to music But I don’t know how to transcribe whispers I don’t know how to notate nonsense What’s the symbol for a nervous hiccup? A broken grace-note, a shattered tie A dissonant chord chopping through all the good melodies I decided to leave poor enough alone Because my fears are really shadowpuppets And if I want, I can move the flashlight away from my hands Except when I’m not holding the flashlight Or When I’m not running my hands Or When I’m not in charge of eyeball mechanics But I’m not strapped to a dogchair in an alligatorcave And so rabbitfist shadows aren’t my only context And I’ve seen real rabbits, and I’ve walked a dog And it’s ok to be afraid of alligators And crackhead muggers And ten car pile-ups And black mold And death It’s ok to be afraid that your fears can grow stronger Because that just proves they can grow weaker too