Song parody of
What Do You Think Will Happen Now?
by Owen Pallett
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The difficulties of my story
Despite discomforts, despite myself, I
I reaffirm my endless devotion
To the belief that we're all of value
We're all of virtue, and so inclined we
Fill up our cups and toast to each other
And though I listen to the arguments
That most divergent systems employ to
Debilitate us, delineate us
Repackage our words, demystify us
I unceasingly affirm my love can
Cannot be measured, cannot be altered
I know, I know it, I do affirm it
With overzealous obscurantism
With every word and with every gesture
I must express it
I can't define it
But all the same I know I can describe it
I walk o'er bridges and see the river
A marble statue the sun has weather'd
The stubbornness of the overgrowth and
The old memorials covered in snow. We've
Written the way the universe will go
A righteous white horse, a man with a bow
A sharpened bit of the mistletoe
Scissors of fate or the fire of Surtur
Though we're divided, the force of nature
Will put us all in the ground together
This morning I must get up
To see the world around me
Right away, what I forgot
In seeing ourselves as words upon a paper
The sun is up
My arms are wide
I am a good man, I am yours
The difficulties of my story
Despite discomforts, despite myself, I
I reaffirm my endless devotion
To the belief that we're all of value
We're all of virtue, and so inclined we
Fill up our cups and toast to each other
And though I listen to the arguments
That most divergent systems employ to
Debilitate us, delineate us
Repackage our words, demystify us
I unceasingly affirm my love can
Cannot be measured, cannot be altered
I know, I know it, I do affirm it
With overzealous obscurantism
With every word and with every gesture
I must express it
I can't define it
But all the same I know I can describe it
I walk o'er bridges and see the river
A marble statue the sun has weather'd
The stubbornness of the overgrowth and
The old memorials covered in snow. We've
Written the way the universe will go
A righteous white horse, a man with a bow
A sharpened bit of the mistletoe
Scissors of fate or the fire of Surtur
Though we're divided, the force of nature
Will put us all in the ground together
This morning I must get up
To see the world around me
Right away, what I forgot
In seeing ourselves as words upon a paper
The sun is up
My arms are wide
I am a good man, I am yours
