H.O.W. (2025 Remaster)

I can treat you to visits to coastal pillboxes

I like to delve into structure lost in the porches

And I am the one who stamps on all ages

From sixteen to forty, over and under

I'm monolithic and the black ice on the corner

As all is as one, as I stamp on all stone

I hold all time and can induce and warn

Jet trains, lead panes, stamps on border forms

Misread Easter Island, put butter on plague styles

Spin complete revolutions and not bat an eyelid

And alter tree rings so that what you are after

You will not ever find with a surfeit of lumber

And make you imagine through hunger bread she's spinning

Dripping with butter

Just six inches higher than your upstretched middle finger

I place minute dust in your microchip vessels

For daring to think all science is immortal

I am the one who strike you down at once

For stretching time bracket and assuming that what is

Can be maladjusted, a rigid adoption of codes you have concocted

I can treat you to visits to coastal pillboxes

And show you all hideous microscope thingies

And hover set up in London to races

Stockings, joking, seventeen eighties

I like to delve into structure lost in the porches

And I am the one who stamps on all ages

From sixteen to forty, over and under