So slowly I chased my mind out//
Spineless thoughts, useless plots//
Against myself, I beat the demon version of me//
The black angel of death..
The erie harmony//
The natives breathe//
The crossroads with fire to the right, fire to the left//
Indian wind up high//
The horses path, past the purple sky//
Almost like a return to snowy river//
A five story house, one bed half a mirror//
Cold floor, spider webbed doors//
Perception is there, reality is horror