From the window sill where the moments blinked,
The path that I stood underneath the tingling smell of the willows shivered with its loneliness.
An unknown pleasure was surrounding me like a mist as my leg fell asleep;
I thought it was my blood pressure, but there was the mist..
Dipped in a fragile odor that I longed to feel..
Mmm.. The frown surrenders to the pleased mind, turns upside down..
The thoughts, letting go of everything on my mind,
Everything but you, as petals put you in my daydreams..
I stand still, I keep my eyes closed until I can wait no longer to see you..
I cheat and peek through one eye and..
You are not there..
Somebody must've stolen your smell.. No no no, there's no one around!
My memories, oh my memories play a cruel game on me..
Delusions, ugly, frustration takes over my body,
My nerves want to cancel out every single system as a rush of emotions pierce through my soul...
I'm exhausted, I can think no more...
-o-o-o-o-o-
Low voltage..
Images flicker with the lights..
Wrong frequency.. I skip frames..
I am mystery..
I am a legend to those that knows me.. Finger count: 0..
Lonely people on a street.. Finger count: 1..
Time of the day.. Finger count: 3..
Weekly ritual.. Finger count: 5..
Sleep state: Disturbed..
General analysis: Out of control and out of bounds..
Out of rationality as much as reality goes..
Primary symptoms of nothingness is a redesign of conceptions that fall way beyond matter..
Black holes fade within a certain criteria, and oblivion is mandatory..
Yet what lies within is a group of logs that hasn't been turned into a campfire..
A sparkle can set the fireworks free: Death of a thousand craftsmen..
We travel from one home to the other for the ultimate safety,
Yet nowhere is safe to be found..
When found, I will have to give in,
That is, in a thousand years...
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
My minstrel pleads a game of joy.
Dancing around the tables, playing dominoes,
Doing the most stupid things ever imagined..
When the pleader is my minstrel, everything sounds within boundaries of logic.
But the problem is, my minstrel is silent, as if deaf,
If I shout out, she might be disturbed,
If I stay silent, I will just be a tree in the forest..
..Unless someone carves something on the barks..
So unlikely, amongst millions..
My leaves stutter a rustle with eminent thoughts,
A cheap vacation to a wonderland..
The path that I stood underneath the tingling smell of the willows shivered with its loneliness.
An unknown pleasure was surrounding me like a mist as my leg fell asleep;
I thought it was my blood pressure, but there was the mist..
Dipped in a fragile odor that I longed to feel..
Mmm.. The frown surrenders to the pleased mind, turns upside down..
The thoughts, letting go of everything on my mind,
Everything but you, as petals put you in my daydreams..
I stand still, I keep my eyes closed until I can wait no longer to see you..
I cheat and peek through one eye and..
You are not there..
Somebody must've stolen your smell.. No no no, there's no one around!
My memories, oh my memories play a cruel game on me..
Delusions, ugly, frustration takes over my body,
My nerves want to cancel out every single system as a rush of emotions pierce through my soul...
I'm exhausted, I can think no more...
-o-o-o-o-o-
Low voltage..
Images flicker with the lights..
Wrong frequency.. I skip frames..
I am mystery..
I am a legend to those that knows me.. Finger count: 0..
Lonely people on a street.. Finger count: 1..
Time of the day.. Finger count: 3..
Weekly ritual.. Finger count: 5..
Sleep state: Disturbed..
General analysis: Out of control and out of bounds..
Out of rationality as much as reality goes..
Primary symptoms of nothingness is a redesign of conceptions that fall way beyond matter..
Black holes fade within a certain criteria, and oblivion is mandatory..
Yet what lies within is a group of logs that hasn't been turned into a campfire..
A sparkle can set the fireworks free: Death of a thousand craftsmen..
We travel from one home to the other for the ultimate safety,
Yet nowhere is safe to be found..
When found, I will have to give in,
That is, in a thousand years...
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
My minstrel pleads a game of joy.
Dancing around the tables, playing dominoes,
Doing the most stupid things ever imagined..
When the pleader is my minstrel, everything sounds within boundaries of logic.
But the problem is, my minstrel is silent, as if deaf,
If I shout out, she might be disturbed,
If I stay silent, I will just be a tree in the forest..
..Unless someone carves something on the barks..
So unlikely, amongst millions..
My leaves stutter a rustle with eminent thoughts,
A cheap vacation to a wonderland..
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