With much contempt, and shrewish emotion My devotion (palatial) is to standing still In groves, and in rows, I shan't wriggle my toes My absolute sojourn is in standing still Everything is groomed to pass by, and I won't miss a thing. Through flood and drought, and love (without) What's this about? How I'm still standing still Under pressure within, with an outside for sin, and a peruke like fin, I swim, standing still Everything is assumed to pass by, and I won't miss a thing. With solemnity -- Like it's my fucking legacy? Oh Lord, thanks for teaching me, the art of standing still As the sun red-dwarfs (obsequious) -- Here's a kiss, and one last fist up your list, of why I'm standing still Everything is doomed to pass by, and I won't miss a thing.