A humming sound inside my cotton ears.
Vibrating at the speed of sound.
I can't hear your voice.
Between flaky birch trees there is a hidden mysterious wind.
We can not go back.
Ominous clouds craddle me in blessed light.
In this golden dust we sleep.
I shut my eyelids and let the weight of the universe hold me down.
Noise.
It's everywhere.
In the shadows of my life.
Through out my wholesome slumber it is quiet.
When I wake the sound will return
The sound will return.
The sound will return.

Field of vision blocked.
Spaceship halo rays for us.
Slip into the sky.

We are all imortal gods of Earth.
Brewn from the great conscieness.
Woven through matter.
Wholesome laughter echoes among hidden forests.
Concealed within us is a vibrating boisterous light that defines the proximity of the universe.
Collapse into a million pieces and the children of tomorrow would look up into the night and wish upon scattered remnants.
Love is the universal language of consciousness.

The reverse piano roll startles my memories I store inside me.
I whip-crack back to the begining.
A purple haze glazzing the infinite horizon.
Everything I've lost comes back.
As I go back the rapid flash of a thousand lightning strikes silently illuminates the intake of my breath.
We are just here under the light
While the remainders live in the darkness of tomorrow.

I found myself against your shirt.
Buryed deep in your grace.
Don't you let go of me.
Your tears smell of sadness.

You pulled away and now I'm sad.
I'm growing up old and mad.
Synthetic smiles
Seen for miles.
I wish I could feel you one last time.
To tell you it would all be fine.

Life is beautiful like the warmth I used to feel between us.
Your a sudden drop from my heart.
I'll try and think of all the happy things we used to do.
Pay attention to the detail.
Certain smell
Texture taste.
The more I remember the more I destort because certain things we did can not be recreated for the pleasure of my mind.

Black soot coats the earth as falling bombs in an airstrike wipe us out.
Fallen bodies cluttering broken streets, 1944, the soldiers march through a ****** fog. A city once full of life lay dead and covered in blood. Like graceful synchronized swimmers the soldiers compress the soot with the heels of their boots. The weight of the rifles grows heavier as the march goes on.

HALT!

Solidifying into solid lead. The blue sky whistles bombs like children whistling to lullaby's. One by one they melt into puddles. One by one the black  bombs shred us apart.