How should I begin?
I find myself residing
At the dried out end of a dead history
All my thoughts 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 remembered all my lines
It seems that I have thus presumed
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
And I'll make the two times table mine
I will not presume, but I will thus begin