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I'm leavin' to walk the road inside my headwith cord in hand and powder breath I stand and wave goodbyegoodbye...the systematomatic thinks, while buying blood on Broadway street where the old messiahs gothat pulsing through the atmosphere are answers to the questions you should knowdon't let it go, or it's all downhill from hereexamples of the afterlife responding visions half the time and the other vertigospun off the Earth a thousand times and caught the wind that purifies the soulyou should know, it's all downhill from herelost out here adrift in lights, it's wonderousweightless in clouds of colors the world will never seeand I am a figment of realitywrapped in the shroud of endless night I scream aloudbut no one hears, so I tell my stories to satellitesand I am lost inside a memorythe pattern picks the pockets of the palindromeback to front the loss remains the sameand it beckons to the East to give the West its eyeswhile the oscillating rhythm marks its bonesto the young it gives a vision of the dead and gonewhile the old recieve a passion to surviveand the pattern picks the pockets of the palindromebefore the oscillating rhythm takes to flight... From Letras Mania