Black Rabbit run black
Run black Black Rabbit
Run Black.
Ran a stolen set of particles organized into an adviser.
Ran, and strung into a static charge to stimulate an engine
My engine spending cracking fire lines and particulate data
If you grow grain and I will measure it, and
Turn it into particles for my engine.
When you shoot at my ships that look like smooth and highborn whales, with black standards sinking on black stinking sticks
I will mark the calendar
Turn you and them into particles for my engine
When you might set a man on fire in the middle of my streets
The smell of his hair spinning around wisps of sheeting skin, and burning my nose
I will beat the fire out, him to death
Just so I can measure the burns and bruises along the body
Turn them each into particles for my engine.
Stop and hesitate.
Saboteur!
Now you know your motion is currency here
So you stop to hesitate.
You are trying to steal from me
under the cover of a pretended stupidity, or ignorance, or caution,
Or you act as if you are scared that you might be suspected of sabotage,
Using my suspicions in a circle and lying to my face
or you are pretending to be weak,
supposing that your dullness must be due to undernourishment
You imagine you can hurt me and steal from me and break my machines
and I am going to give you some of my bread.
But I can watch anything and I will measure the nothing that you do and
Turn it all into particles for my engine
Black Particles run black,
Run black Black Particles
Run Black.
And the day you cry that I am a thief,
That everything that is, only is to be stolen
Turned into more particles for my engine
You will throw yourself down a hill to die and I will walk up your hill
Counting my paces
Turning them into particles for my engine
They will count you among the lost and mourn you
While my engines are overfull I will drive over you in my bulldozer
Push you into a hole and count you,
Count the holes and the time that ticks from my bent handed watch
while I color in the yellow of my bulldozer and
draw a picture of the hill and me pacing it,
Turn them all into particles for my engine.
And I will sit afterward in the dark
Counting and measuring and drawing from memory
Empty cities and roads and particles
Turning them into particles for my engine.
This is a Black Rabbit running bleak.
Black Rabbit run bleak
Run bleak Black Rabbit
Run bleak.