This is kind of a joke song, but I think it might be cool if sung in a Tool/Mars Volta style. The band is called, The American Synthetic Telepathy experiment. It's about Ptolemy's Tetrabiblos, Book 3, "On Monsters."
If their Mercurial words could carry
within and with this forgiven set
Their calculated forgeries
an equilateral epithet
It won’t resolve itself
I just need that schismed mind to sense it
(like the framer knows)
I just need those fractaled eyes to draw it
(I’m always blind alone)
Take some LSD to taste it
(count stars as nested webbings)
Take some Ecstasy to feel it
(your hands rust off to the tilling of)
the ground
round the hangman’s tree
all
burned down
And you lust around the giver
and taking it one step further
you’ll begin to price to lender
and to bargain with the borrower
