Midnight at the Matrix.
Only in poetry music, ***.
Sometimes there's a way out.

And a dreamland in the inbetween.
Seeing things you haven't seen.
But there are some boundaries.

There are little worlds behind them.
You can see them but you can't go there yet.
And creatures walking around you ignoring you.
This world is not yet yours.

Midnight at the matrix.
Trying to get ready to relax.
Finishing your last phone call.

You both broke down on the other side of the line.
Both vacuum ****** and you can't get through the end of the bowl.
Cause there's no end at all.
No end in a vacuum bowl.

Still not completely ****** in the same way.
But soon you'll be ****** together in the same old bowl.
One of you just came out of war, the other out of hell.
Not much difference, still a world of a difference.

One is still and the other always ill.
Cause being ****** in a bowl where everything is too much makes you never relax...
Being ****** in a bowl after a war is a calm in the eye of a storm.
An eye of glass....

Midnight at the Matrix.
Only in poetry music, ***.
Sometimes there's a way out.