Piercing static noises
Disrupt the state of partridges
Their necks in holes like ostriches
At the slightest glimpse of consequences
Pertaining to their life expenses
How do they sense this?

The PSI required
To make us inspired
Roused by unspoken choirs
Using their strengthened minds
Under simple disguises
So that they surmise it
How do they sense this?

Mother’s eyes in the back of her head
They’re filled with dread
She looks ahead
To see when we have been misled
How do they sense this?

A dream is a vision wrapped in mystique
Intentions are good but the vision reaks
Perfection isn’t always what we all seek
How do they sense this?