I am making noise in the dark but its hard to find out why.
These voices I hear are making words,
words made out of things they've heard.
Things they may have felt or seen
with eyes made out of stars and dreams.
The words they fly and all I hear
is music and pain.
Screams and cheers...

My voice is there of course and it rings the chaos bell,
but sometimes I cannot hear my words and that just means that all is well.

Perhaps this is just a ball floating around with volume turned on high.
Does the cosmic storm give a **** about our blue and cloudy sky?

It may or may not. I'll never know.

But if all I hear until I die are these voices,

...then I am okay with that.

I'll just keep making noise in the dark.