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Sound slips from my lips forms a word |
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the pressure so strong |
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by chance it forms a key |
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for me and what I see is like a satellite in orbit. |
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So rich in colours and detail that I absorb it. |
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Probe my memory |
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to find a door to fit the key without trying. |
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Death defying rays, |
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a unique source. |
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Mapped out a track cruising on course. |
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File these feelings unknown |
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colours burn a heat and a sonic tone |
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each to its own shade as the future is made |
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by burning the the past in the moment |
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we come to call "now", |
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it's forever somehow. |
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Switching from lane to lane, |
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to left to right we ride |
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touch the other side, |
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touch the other side, c'mon. |
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Now you see words don't mean nothing |
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till I put them in lane, |
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they go down the track |
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and come straight back again. |
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Thoughts are immaterial |
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elastic, ethereal |
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coming out like rain-drops and then scatter |
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from form to anti-matter. |
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Dope is a beat coming like a ray of heat |
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from the kick drum |
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so move closer to get some. |
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Discommunicated, I'm initiated |
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by the touch of her lips. |
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A total eclipse for me to focus on |
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spiral on, dance in it, travel on, |
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and on and on... |
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Keep keeping on |
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until the break of dawn. |
