Jumped ****** and born to suffer.
Made to strip naked in the wilderness.
The things we knew splayed out next to us as we picked new constellations from trivial mountain nights.
The bus would later hitch up my soul and drag it screaming across the states.
I would soon follow.
Out there in the great beyond I found God inside an onion.
It opened before me and showed exactly how to get down.
Music madness mountain magic.
If only I could tell lies perhaps old strings may still be tied.
Silence...Sardonic.
A message with confused intentions.
My head split from the seed that was planted by a woman of white linen and knowledge of the plague.
Healing waters glowed golden as the silk of spiders made bridges that seemed just sturdy enough to cross.
But was not.
Give us peace here bluesy air dive bar cancer.
Give us peace here, distant fog horn monolith mirrors the fear of rare blood.
Give us peace look deep the fire speaks a vessel of the ancient.
Hold breath and see truth.
Breath out and send.
Once again.
One more.
No one is listening.