Odes to Joy

Hypnerotomachia Poliphili (Canonical) · Track 432 · middle

The Nose He Made from Gold and the Moose He Lost to Beer

Tycho Brahe

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Your nose—that golden bridge you lost to honor's duel,
replaced with alloy, metal catching starlight like a jewel.
You mapped the phantom limb of sky above the drunken court,
where synoptic fires bloomed across your cortex, mapping port
by port each wandering star's predictive arc, the way your brain
anticipated motion, neurogenesis lighting up again
and again—your hippocampus consolidating night by night
the trajectories, the theta waves of pure geometric sight.
Your instruments grew like axonal branches from your will,
the myelinated thoughts conducting faster, faster still.

[Chorus]
You built the universe inside your eye,
you measured what the ancients couldn't spy,
your metal nose a badge of devotion true,
the cosmos bends its light toward you.

[Verse 2]
They said your island held a thousand observations bound,
where mirror neurons fired watching heavens spin around—
you felt the stars as if they lived beneath your reconstructed skin.
Your proprioceptive genius knew where planets lived within
the grand machinery, long-term potentiation etched
in every synapse, every cell that reached and stretched
to catalog the wanderers, the comets' fiery grace.
Your cortical remapping made obsession's dwelling place
a temple made of measurement, of brass and brass and bone,
where isolation fed the fire, made the cosmos fully known.

[Chorus]
You built the universe inside your eye,
you measured what the ancients couldn't spy,
your metal nose a badge of devotion true,
the cosmos bends its light toward you.

[Bridge]
Phantom sensation, phantom stars,
yet your precision healed the scars
of ignorance—your interoception knew
the universe was singing back to you.

[Chorus]
You built the universe inside your eye,
you measured what the ancients couldn't spy,
your metal nose a badge of devotion true,
the cosmos bends its light toward you.

[Outro]
Your golden prosthetic catches dawn,
each measurement a love song drawn
across the dark—you watched, you saw,
the sky obeys your metal law.
Pick a song