1. |
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Come out, come out from wherever you've been.
Ignite the night for another spin.
Toast to clear coasts and disappear again
Like a phantom, a ghost, an apparition.
Magic is working at all times around us,
And in the mean time the divine mother grounds us.
Nestled in stardust will we combust.
Wake up every morning to a system that failed us,
And quietly gyrate our way through the day
Like cosmic beings barreling head on towards our fate.
Unless we see through the illusion of control,
They'll work us to our bones and then devour our souls.
Periscope, periscope unto me,
What do you spy, what do you see?
Drink from the giant hand descending from sky,
And ask how high but do not ask why.
Crystalline ridges all around the hillside,
And sparkling hues are along for the car ride.
Head tilted pointed upward towards the night,
And a pocket full of utensils to guide.
Torn from the hive straight back to the dive.
Endless spiraling inside.
If we're all just cogs that keep the wheel turning,
Throw me in the tar pit or the sun will stop burning.
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2. |
Threshold Gleam
03:33
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An ellipsis embodied.
A blossom of smoke,
Erupting upwards from an opaque cloak.
Knew no fear, it was no veneer.
Waited all night till the coast was clear.
Reflection of an eye in the sky.
A formless mist came floating by.
Dust to twilight threshold gleam,
In between them is everything.
In between them is just a dream.
Cannot be tamed,
Cannot be caged,
Cannot get past the last of the day.
Crouched down in anticipation to start this ,
Downtown in syncopation with darkness.
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3. |
The Fog Rolls In
05:46
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Head on fire.
Eyes of desire.
When the jaw gets to drinking,
The mouth conspires.
The heart aspires,
And the ribcage cracks.
The brain ignores the haunting facts.
Hands aren't what they were.
Muscles lack.
Can't Carry this load on an aching back.
But the feed still move,
And the tides of the moon
Keep the mind attune to the onslaught of moods.
Teeth in the neck.
A night's fangs sink in.
Tell me exactly just what you're thinking.
Out of control and out for the weekend.
The fog rolls in.
It's tongues we're speaking.
Top latch open, bright shines too.
Sparkling oceans of crime chime through.
The mind's blind to sensory access,
It's all due to the third's eye's absence.
An escape from the back door to space.
A blue of a race came face to face.
Rushing through a temple towards the truth.
Blushing at the alter of cosmic glue.
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