From rape to right in, to real to live, should I lie down or stand up, And walk around again?
My eyes finally wide open up, my eyes finally wide open shut, to find the found of sound.
That hears the touch of my tears.
Smells the taste of all we waste, could feed the others, but we smother each other, with the nectar and pucker the sour of sugar sweet weather, blows through our trees, swims through our seas, flies to the last gasp we left on this earth.
It’s a long lonely journey from death to birth
Should I die again? Should I die around the pounds of matter wailing to space?
I know I’ll never know until I come face to face, with my own cold, dead face with my own wooden case.