My heart is homeless on the paved streets of man, the screaming machines and metal birds that never die. All the noise, no beats, no rhythm just the noise, that continually toils, swirls in my mind.
Then I finally find it, the great wood the ocean of tree, life, and more importantly of music. Such sweetening tones, all coherent and vibrant and also so sad. For this sanctuary is being eaten alive by the metal beasts built by flesh and blood to destroy the peaceful.
Man is my worst lover, no tenderness, no love. Selfish until the end, and the end is nigh. For many wish to return to the almighty wood and never speak of the metal beasts again.