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