Vivid pictures Mirror from the future In the heart to the burning mountains Never-ending minute I bend into embryonic figure To fire myself in the head There is a deep swamp Some brown thoughts in my head The dirty days are black Tell me where is the sun? Spell-bound The atavistic remains after the rain Close blueness Ice-brain future Fiery forest is grazing its flames When sounds of the drums Push your blinkers aside You will realize that
There are bugs in the information shops too Foolish questions Get foolish cliches Reality must be: A vision A morning performance A dream, where I become a picture with you Cold water disillusions Stonehands are still on hand The vomit has already frozen I recharge myself Reality bears me on my way Mechanical consciousness reanimates me Pleasure of the absolutely nothing Pours me some hot coffee Stonehands order Stonehands wave