- Art flows not just from the hand of man
- It's more than just some random jam
- Our minds together make a tandem plan
- O Let me show you this great can
- And then we'll open it upon the slam
- I find within it many worms
- That once writhed and beat and pulsed with life
- Through their many turns and turns
- These worms have passed through urns and urns
- Yes, once they did and once they will
- These worms now canned and locked from life
- Locked in place where will sits still
- Their minds web's cut like with a subtle knife
- They are living out internal strife
- No longer attuned to their eternal life
- But like time and time and life and life
- These feeding worms will rise once more
- And leading turns will lead us to the door
- Cleans'd it will be with ancient lore
- Someday they'll leave the devil's store
- Sore and poor and want for more
- They'll come together filled with hope
- Once again they'll climb life's rope
- But like rhyme and rhyme and hope and hope
- These reading worms will writhe once more
- They'll rise up from beneath Dis' floor
- No more fear they'll slither together
- They'll tether forever
- And form a five-pointed star
- Covered with flesh the star will divide
- Splitting up into fives and fives
- These worms are not dead
- These worms are feeding: its mind's been fed
- No, these worms will live and love and writhe instead
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