Where the trains run parallel
I run the perimeter,
Looking for a way through This heat covered flesh.
A new kind of madness
Invades my brain,
I cannot describe the freedom
****** on the edged of the rim.
A subliminal contract
With no strings attached.
All the clouds run counterproductive,
Its a new kind of system.
I've jammed all the frequencies,
Only radio transmissions
From 1953.
Caught in the warble,
I'll drop the pill in the vat,
You'll will feel it momentarily.
You will surrender to its properties,
A fugue of dark wonder.
You will enter it's pinkish light,
You'll hear your Mother's voice from the womb.
You'll not transcend this new kind of madness.
You'll fall into it light a cliff diver in Yucatan,
It will be your friend,
Your great undoing,
Clock towers and spires will Resolve your transmission.
You're in curved space time now,
Nothing can touch this unlimited freedom.
There will be no further interruption.
Come with me now to the place of still water,
Let me show you the shape under the sheet.
Can you smell the rain?
It's an acid bath of elation.
Isn't it buzzing in your toes?
I've factored in retrograde,
Will be there within the hour
Them we'll see what else transpires along the realm.
We'll kick Baal down the steps,
Get him wobbling down
Where all the trains run backward.
The Christ figure will blind him,
Bind him in sackcloth and ash.
It will be a celebration
I figured in the overload,
Put it through sine and cotangent-
Then it's all peaches.
Like coming up for air.
It will be a beast,
A bull, a drama.
It will be a fly in the ointment,
And grease on the rails.
It's a symphony in the speakers,
Where nothing floats but saucer shaped thoughts.
Stick figures hang from a tree,
You'll wish to be one of them.
You'll want to swim in it,
Through it, into it.
It's a blue filter night dream.
A cerulean blue blaze of pixel
It will drive your dreams to monochrome.
You'll lose 27 minutes upon reentry.
You'll be through the stars.
It only requires gasoline and guts.
I drew the schematics straight out of nowhere.
They filtered down from Central,
Forgetting new Area Codes
I dreamt up last Sunday.
Its Arkansas in the sun,
It's a page witch dance,
It's ****** with a mallet,
It shines to a T.
Wait by the phone for further instruction.