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Caught up between killing computers |
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That tell you dreams are sneak previews of our future |
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And you feel empty, you feel sorry |
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When it seems your life means nothing to nobody |
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But you won't listen, you won't fall |
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And you won't know a cold eternity at all |
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So stop pretending, start relaxing |
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Feeling our time and space collapsing |
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So stop pretending, start relaxing |
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Because the end of all things has started happening |
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And you feel so old |
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I pray for your soul |
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And it's all to much |
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And you've lost your human touch |
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The crooked housed a normal man. Normal fears and beliefs, ideals and judgments. White walls, shiny floors, leather sofa, unnecessary doors. And here I stand, the everlasting sign. A haunt of jackals, a home for owls. I know of fer named Luci, and I howl like the wolf. And the mountains and the hills will burst into song, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands, and the stars in the sky will be dissolved and the heavens rolled up like a broken scroll... |
