Murder and Create (Lyrics)

How should I begin? I find myself residing At the dried out end of a dead history. All my thoughts of are dirt Scattered on a coffin. And I a dilettante funeral spectator here. How should I presume? A besuited bourgeois mourner, Virgin to surrender and vivid sense, I scour lichened stones, Desperately seeking Daedalus's paternal secret of Where we will land. Well I was born with four fingers On each hand, And with my eight fingers, And my thumbs, I do maths. Once again, how should I begin? I've started weak and I'm stuttering, But I have all remembered all my lines. It seems that I have presumes To talk of maths In front of crowded rooms. But I'll make the two times table mine. How should I begin? I find myself residing At the dried out end of a dead history. How should I presume? A besuited bourgeois mourner, Virgin to surrender and vivid sense, Calculus finishes me, I don't follow trigonometry, I've got nothing to add to algebra, The more complex functions I don't remember. But arithmetic... The absolute zero Is arithmetic On fingers and toes. I have remembered all my lines. I'll make the two times table mine. I will not presume, but I will thus begin.