Poor Atlas

I’m building a body

From balsam and ash

I’m building a body with

No god attached

I’m building a body

From blueprints in Braille

I’m building a body

Where our design has failed

There’s a book full of plans

At the feet of poor Atlas

Titled ‘For Man’

But the architects only drew blanks

Now there’s nowhere to go

But go back, go back, go back, go back