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Spoken version
A recorded reading of “The Dilemma of the Egg”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
A sandwich caught mid-metaphor, between genesis and meal, two fragile orbs of ivory with futures they can’t feel. Cradled in their cotton crusts, a dairy sun between, they sprout the legs of what they’d be— a life that might have been. Do they walk toward hatching dreams, their feathered kin in flight? Or stumble toward a breakfast fate, where heat will dim their light? Born of yolk and yearning feet, they straddle time’s divide, unhatched, uneaten, unfulfilled, they wander undecided. For who can say what purpose lies upon these breaded planes? A purgatory perched on legs— where absurdity remains.
Instructional lyrics
[Intro – A wobbly, off-kilter melody, syncopated bass, ghostly theremin-like synths] [A detuned keyboard plunks out an uneasy, lilting motif, like a nursery rhyme played on a broken carousel. The bassline waddles in, syncopated and uncertain. A theremin-like synth moans softly, as if questioning its own existence. Vocals enter, half-spoken, half-sung, like narrating a cosmic joke.] A sandwich caught mid-metaphor, Between genesis and meal… [Verse 1 – Bizarre and detached, playful yet brooding] [Drums shuffle in with an offbeat groove. The bassline bounces, yet feels slightly reluctant. Guitar chords stab in unexpected places. The vocals are slightly deadpan, as if contemplating the absurdity of breakfast itself.] Two fragile orbs of ivory, With futures they can’t feel. Cradled in their cotton crusts, A dairy sun between. [Chorus – Theatrical and exaggerated, like a surreal fable] [The harmonies swell dramatically, layered voices spiraling around each other. The synths stretch and bend, like rubber bands snapping in slow motion. The chorus melody is oddly catchy, despite its unsettling nature.] Do they walk toward hatching dreams, Their feathered kin in flight? Or stumble toward a breakfast fate, Where heat will dim their light? [Verse 2 – Increasingly surreal, the existential dread creeps in] [The bassline speeds up slightly, as if the eggs are nervously pacing. Warped guitar arpeggios swirl around the mix, teasing at a melody that never quite lands. The vocals become more animated, almost questioning.] Born of yolk and yearning feet, They straddle time’s divide. Unhatched, uneaten, unfulfilled, They wander undecided. [Bridge – Chaotic breakdown, dreamlike and absurd] [The tempo staggers, instruments momentarily out of sync. A distorted voice whispers nonsensical phrases about breakfast. A theremin howls in protest. The drums stop and start, like an argument with itself.] Who can say what purpose lies Upon these breaded planes? A purgatory perched on legs— Where absurdity remains… remains… remains… [Chorus – Reprise, bigger, voices overlapping in absurd harmony] [Everything swells—synths bubbling over, bass hopping like an uncertain dance, harmonies stacking in theatrical layers. The vocals feel like an existential chant, a cosmic riddle shouted into the void.] Do they walk toward hatching dreams, Their feathered kin in flight? Or stumble toward a breakfast fate, Where heat will dim their light? [Outro – Dissolving into playful oblivion] [The drums slow into a lazy shuffle, then disappear. The synths glitch, stretching the final note like an egg yolk breaking. The bassline tiptoes away awkwardly. A final whisper, uncertain and amused, lingers before fading into static.] “And so… the egg remains…” [A single warped keyboard note bends into silence.]
Song info
Experimental Art-Pop | Playful yet eerie, with offbeat rhythms, swirling synths, and carnival-like melodies. Theatrical vocals oscillate between humor and existential dread.
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