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Virgilian Lots
of Montreal
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The pigs are taking shots at the mourners on the hill
I'm truly not neutral, but I lost all direction
Today I woke ready to blow the bridge
But finding you, hand over your mouth
So instead I burn my own village down
I'm grieving for you, my love
And I don't understand what's going on
Just ask the twin volcanoes of (_____and _____)
We were once stable, uh huh
So sad I almost bury every thought of you
Before it shows its teeth
Now I amuse myself with the dubious form of Virgillian Lots
Like your neo-feminist divinations
I'm grieving for you, my love
And I don't understand what's going on
All my memories were once almost sacred
All the embarrassments to me now
Of your three things I find most shocking
Are the first is how trivial you are
The second is my depth of my feeling
They're the purity of our collapse
I'm grieving for you, my love
And I don't understand what's going on
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