And swaggering we walk to the kindness we know
Filled with the dimness of muscular joys
Hands filled with hands filled with these broken toys
Created as bodies for the ones put below
Our companion mammals are made of noise
Hands for the labor of milking this noise
Sheathed in plastic, sweating, cold as reflected glow
Filled with the dimness of muscular joys
A golden seepage encircles these boys
Creates an eternity to know and unknow
Our companion mammals are made of noise
Swaggering with kindness, words soft and coy
Summoned back to the places where ash blackly blows
Filled with the dimness of muscular joys
Children will sleep clutching these broken toys
Lidded eyes perceiving the residual glow
Our companion mammals are made of noise,
Filled with the dimness of muscular joys