There are only two possible explanations for the utter indecipherability of Amos' lyrics: (1) She is an enemy spy sending brilliantly encrypted messages to her compatriots in foreign lands or (2) The Cornflake Girl is really just a flake.
On her third solo album, Amos has been left almost entirely to her own devices, producing the album as well as writing its 18 songs. The result is a seriously self-indulgent work that labors to obscure her considerable talents, including a wonderful agility on the piano and a voice that can shift instantly from tender to tyrannical.
