Songless sky, digital bug-eye Octogonal seams so much clearer Indiscrete, status incomplete
Talk to me you flying shadows Wandering into the ozone stew Keep your myths from the embryos An outright official fiasco
Have some sign come to me That I am in their league Look about, response is wanting Events are carefully on display Common sense, a gift, is given But mystic mistakes are never made Suspecting premature daydreams
I surrender to ritual grey
Why all this commotion now? I wish I knew the one who knows