Invented Confessions by Emmett Mathison

grooves in a wooden box or a record

(i did it with a screwdriver)

record was pretending to be a face

(i scratched the record like this with my screwdriver)

the part in the song where for one golden

divisive moment

there’s a bump

(spark on the little faucet leaking from a punctured gas tank, boom)

in the soft note he’s singing

sounds like thunder without all that hay around it

i scratched it there with my screwdriver

thought it would make like merry go round

the wise clown knows to put the fattest fuckers on the edge

cause the tin toy is old, knows rain, and weight all around makes the rust scream good

prayed it would make like a merry go round,

you can count on the same missed face returning

before the rotation makes you forget its shape

tried to double that bump with my screwdriver

build some wailing braille

knock its soft moons out of orbit

they started making flames and then

the craters spelled my name

record was pretending and

(i did it with my screwdriver)

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