Lonely Solipsist
The Agonist Lyrics

Parrot, squatting on your throne, mentally captured, are you?
Are you mentally enslaved while a parrot perches upon your throne?

Foot-soldered concrete rooted in basement, alone.
You're trapped alone in a basement with walls made of solid concrete that you can't escape.

Corporeality relinquished. Fictive molecules revolt.
You have surrendered your physical body, and your imagination is fighting back.

Soliloquies like apparition of a long forgotten ghost.
Your solitary musings are like the ghost of an idea that you once had but forgot.

Lonely Solipsist, sculpture squatting in a cell!
You are a solitary thinker, trapped like a sculpture in a cell.

Anchored pedometry, concrete throne.
You're stuck in place, as if anchored to a throne made of concrete.

Posture vocal like your inflective prose, tethered philosophy, encrypted psychiatry.
Your speech is deliberate, like your writing. Your philosophy is restrained and your mental state is locked away.

Powers of rendition on a capricious world, a pawn.
You have power over your creations, but you're still at the mercy of the unpredictable world around you.

Monet inclination for thoughts spoken – never heard.
You have a tendency to think deeply and express those thoughts, but they go unheard.

Tragic auditorium for one Pygmalion soul.
You're like Pygmalion, stuck in a tragic auditorium with no audience to appreciate your creation.

Manas in transcendence through an infinite cosmos.
Your spirit is reaching beyond your physical body to explore the infinite universe.

Destruction.
The act of destroying something.

Destruction is the ultimate creation so, your children, don’t regret.
Sometimes destruction is necessary to create something new, and your children should not feel remorse for it.

Like those to their divine inventions, like all to the planet.
Just as people create things, they also destroy them, much like how humans affect the planet.

So, Lonely Solipsist, what rhyparography floods my eyes?
What image or painting floods my eyes, oh solitary thinker?

Bituminoid lucidity, in trafficked lumens, hides.
Clarity is hidden by the darkness, and light coming through traffic.

What would happen if your trompe-l’oeil was exposed?
How would you react if your deceptive appearance was revealed?

One brain stacked up eight heads high in perfect proportion.
A single person with multiple ideas presented in perfect harmony.

Gravid knowledge crush the skulls in savage rebellion.
The weight of knowledge can destroy those who cannot handle it, causing them to fight back.

Design by observation, translated erudition, so many creators cognitively collide like a pride of pan-psychics.
Many different creators come together, sharing knowledge and ideas and causing their thoughts to collide and mingle.

Upon whom redounds this insistent obloquy?
Who is responsible for this persistent criticism?

Power of observer granted power of intent.
The act of observing can lead to a change in behavior or action.

The Painter’s brush the Writer’s words, the sinners repent.
Art can be a powerful tool to inspire repentance in those who have done wrong.

I declare this pen a syringe! Injecting foreign brains!
The act of writing can be a powerful tool to plant new ideas in the minds of readers.

Obligor objectivist base knowledge on fiction anyways.
Those who demand objective knowledge often base their beliefs on unproven ideas anyway.

Pass the blame like nested Russian Dolls, inertly decaying.
People often pass the blame down the line like nested Russian dolls, without action to fix the problem.

Smite the epiphenomenalism! Erase those bound to faith!
Get rid of the belief that mental states are just byproducts of physical experiences, and remove any ties to faith.