I’m leaving to walk the road inside my head —
With cord in hand and powder-breath I stand
And wave
Good-bye
Good-bye!
Good-bye…
The Systematomatic thinks, while buying blood on Broadway Street
Where the old messiahs go!
There, pulsing through the atmosphere
Are answers to the questions you should know!
Don’t let it go… or it’s all downhill, from here
It’s all downhill, from here!
Examples of the afterlife — responding visions half the time, and the other,
vertigo
Spun off the Earth a thousand times
And caught the wind that purifies the soul!
You should know… it’s all downhill from here
Lost out here, adrift in lights, it’s wondrous!
Weightless, in clouds of colors the world will never see!
And I… am a figment of reality
Wrapped in the shroud of endless night, I scream aloud!
But no one hears, so I tell my stories to satellites
And I… am lost inside a memory
The pattern picks the pockets of the palindrome —
Back to front, the loss remains the same
And it beckons to the East to give the West its eyes
While the oscillating rhythm marks its bones
To the young, it gives a vision of the dead and gone
While the old receive a passion to survive!
And the pattern picks the pockets of the palindrome
Before the oscillating rhythm takes to flight…
And I… am lost inside a memory!
Lost! Lost!!!