(by Chuck Cleaver and Lisa Walker)
(Verse)
In the beginning
I came into being
As a single expression
Pushed out from her organs
(Interlude)
I don’t know what I shall be called
How will ever? How will I find my home?
(Verse)
After a while
We gathered the others
And formed a new language
Pushed out from our organs
(Chorus)
I want to know what I shall be called
I need a name for I need to have for my own
(Verse)
Our appetite for ambition
Into delightful divisions
Fractions of fractions
And each have their places
(Chorus)
I want to know what I shall be called
I need a name for I need to have for my own
(Verse)
I got words in my body
I got words in my body
Turns to partition everything
Nomenclature
(Chorus)
I want to know what I shall be called
I need a name for I need to have for my own
I got words in my body (I got words in my body)
I got words in my body (I got words in my body)
I got words in my body (I got words in my body)
Nomenclature
1 | Airborne |
2 | Funeral Dress |
3 | Soak It Up |
4 | Crooked |
5 | Maglite |
6 | Jonah |
7 | Rigor Mortis |
8 | Tiny Spiders |
9 | Don't Leave Just Now |
10 | This Will Not End Well |