A rotating silvercolored plateau, drops that dance down the columns Blue, cold and the raging starwind glowing colors at fearful speed indistnct pictures of prophets and visionaries in a galactic fog in outer space on an axis In another reality on a supersonic journey inevitably he can see it, the lights are going out and he knows if he just could make us understand In the emptiness there is nothing that can draw the picture you want just a stillborn child on hands that fumble Raging, raging at incomprehensible pace the colors blinding, the plateau falls in outer hell The disclose that we had to die... We pit the hand that fed us in outer space on an axis In another reality on a supersonic journey Is this what is yet to come, or a madman's reflection of the soul? As when his heart cried out in pain when he perceived what burdens we were to bear
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