Holy Shark

The world where I live is the world that I make,

And the world that I make is the world that I wish,

And the world that I wish is the road that I take,

That I take to the dark of an underground lake,

And the answer to this is a fish, is a fish,

And the answer to this is a fish.

For the fish in the lake is a fish in the dark,

And the dark of the lake is the dark of his mind,

And the mind of the fish is the mind of a shark,

Of a shark in the dark, of a shark that is blind,

That is black as my hat and as blind as a bat,

Of a shark that is blind as a bat.

And the teeth of the shark are as sharp as the shine

Of the world that I make in the deep of my heart,

Where the shark of my heart is infallibly mine

As He swims through the dark of the world that I chart,

Of the world that I chart in the shine of my brain,

In the shrine of the shine of my brain,

And the shrine of my brain is the glow and the glim

Of the fish in the dark of the lake underground,

That is One, that is All, that is Seriatim,

That is perfectly pure and ineffably Him

In the sheer of His sides as He glides without sound

Through the fathomless lake underground,

Through the fathomless lake, the unending inane,

Up and down, to and fro and again and again,

In the deep of my heart, pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat,

Like the whispering soul of the aristocrat,

In his Palace of Glass, in his Castle in Spain,

In the world that I make, that I take, that I chart,

Like the place in the scattering dark where I start,

Like a Fortification of Art.

The world where I live is the world that I make,

And the world that I make is the world that I wish,

And the world that I wish is the road that I take,

That I take to the dark of an underground lake,

And the answer to this is a fish, is a fish,

And the answer to this is a fish.

For the fish in the lake is a fish in the dark,

And the dark of the lake is the dark of his mind,

And the mind of the fish is the mind of a shark,

Of a shark in the dark, of a shark that is blind,

That is black as my hat and as blind as a bat,

Of a shark that is blind as a bat.

And the teeth of the shark are as sharp as the shine

Of the world that I make in the deep of my heart,

Where the shark of my heart is infallibly mine

As He swims through the dark of the world that I chart,

Of the world that I chart in the shine of my brain,

In the shrine of the shine of my brain,

And the shrine of my brain is the glow and the glim

Of the fish in the dark of the lake underground,

That is One, that is All, that is Seriatim,

That is perfectly pure and ineffably Him

In the sheer of His sides as He glides without sound

Through the fathomless lake underground,

Through the fathomless lake, the unending inane,

Up and down, to and fro and again and again,

In the deep of my heart, pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat,

Like the whispering soul of the aristocrat,

In his Palace of Glass, in his Castle in Spain,

In the world that I make, that I take, that I chart,

Like the place in the scattering dark where I start,

Like a Fortification of Art.