to reach a conclusion, to reach an understanding of one man's prohibition
it's such an affront for the multiverse, made up by him, the curious man
so i sink under the illumination from the moon, bounced lights of curiosity
a glass, made of ice, however clefted, it swings around on the water

i call it an effort, the ice, a reflection of a pessimistic mind, sinking
underneath the moonlight's sonata slowly hums the inquisitive melodies
the ocean... is not made of salty water. those are tears for a concerto
in A flat, those icy reflections delusively broadcast your whole life

and to reach its own: any prohibition has been infringed, it's gone
everyone could reach for the understanding, even for the universal ones
the curious man, yet fallen down, he already knew how weak and fake he is
the melody is a cacophony of his past life, the life of the curious man