Slowly, through hologram portals Chery surface cold, unmoving Following the deluded trail of slime Through every equinox and winding path Following innumerable
In this region the winds whisper a rumour of a being A hermit banal, with a mind frail as his frame. When he speaks it is in violent bursts And insects
He drowns in the serenity of plain Waves of thought crash on barren skull walls Thunder is the catalyst for meditation, rain the bringer of peace. He
"And it will whisper to me secrets of the world... ...There will come a time When a golden worm will gnaw it's way into the center of my skull. It will
[Instrumental]
How could I leave with my pride and sanity intact? By understanding of the world in ruins By image blurred By I in doubt By soul at one with nothing.
To brown all and any sparks of light Seems to be the only semi-comprehensive goal Present int he hermit's slippery brain. (His thoughts writhe almost
