A golden screen is written down
They said : “the journey is like an helter skelter
There are fields of open arms
A thousand sunrises for a one and only night”
A golden screen is written down
Will there be light, did they harvest a guide ?
Naked water might fall from an austere womb
Consider handling nausea as an
Attempt to take a look at the cosmic blend
The black hole is now turning high above
Down the victory lies of the modern scorn
A scary fleet of realistic views
Turns on daylight clues
The pulse is strength
Don't feel the strange pulse
The pulse is no one but now
It's here
The wave is the tool
Of misunderstanding
Continuous and yet discrete
As ignorance
Accomplished void
Ruthless emptiness
A burden's locked
In a wooden static clock
But still waving on and on...
They removed all the planets, all the matter
They said “don't you think your are part of it now ?”
They scattered the axes and the pavement
They said “your an ‘I' and you shall build the right ‘why ?' ”
They shattered the fields of open arms
They said “ there're no rules, but everlasting comas”
They hid a golden screen to be found out, but we're blind
They claimed “ there's no tool, you're running out of time”
Climbing up the ladder up-side-down
Will prevent you from seeing the sky, and beyond, beyond...
I am dropping out !
Will they turn on?
Shall we tune in ?
I am dropping out !
I am dropping out !
I'm a wheel of thoughts and now ? what am I ?
Don't tell me once more there are shelters to unravel
I feel the pulse is waving on and on, in me
There's a pattern of absolute awakening in emptiness