"Clouds fly high above the ground,
And I am a matchbox trying to burn the whole forest down."

"Don't you like greyish green? Do you mind an effeminate sin?"

"Please, hark the chords of faith, farewell to the newest gloss of hate!"

"Not yet, you're going out to stand alone on the ocean to sink down all the ships"

"But was I not a matchbox trying to burn down all those castles of retreat?"

"Good, now, chew the essence of worth, and bid goodbye to those sinking voices in the dark.."

"But colors. My colors where would they go?"

"I mean 86 dimensions for this show?
"

"Metanoia? You mean? A war to room all falsities?"

"No, but you won't mind some fiction, would you?"

"As true as an age. And ages and ages on a dead planet, untrue"