The thousandth and tenth day of the human totem pole

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The thousandth and tenth day of the human totem pole
Captain Beefheart

The morning was distemper gray on the thousandth and tenth day of the
human totem pole. The man at the bottom was smiling. He had just
finished his breakfast smiling. It hadn't rained or manured for over
two hours. The man at the top was starving. The pole was a
horrible-looking thing, with all of those eyes and ears and waving
hands for balance. There was no way to get a copter in close, so
everybody was starving together. The man at the top had long ago
given up, but didn't have nerve enough to climb down. At night the
pole would talk to itself, and the chatter wasn't too good.
Obviously, the pole didn't like itself. It wanted to walk. It was the
summer, and it was hot. And balance wouldn't permit a skinning to
undergarments. It was an integrated pole. It was taking on a
reddish-brown cast.  Exercise on the pole was isometric. Kind of a
flex and then balance, then the eyes would roll together, the ears
wiggle, hands balance. There was a gurgling and googling heard a
tenth of the way up the pole. Approaching was a small child with
Statue of Liberty doll.

The preceding are the lyrics to the song from the Ice Cream for Crow
album. Just goes to show what the Captain can do with 198 words, and
what a bored hacker can do to maintain his sanity.