flying through a dark prismatic tunnel on a carousel
turning and you know it very well
your mind is reeling lika ten
helicopters wheeling and you're gonna hit the ceiling lika a mallet on
they're starting to ask questions
transgressions ar a danger flashing sign
challenge conventions and
radiate your splendor and feel those flywheels curn your blenderhead
tally up the gleaming ventured on a wishing well
your moments pining like those tales all
intertwining can become the rusted lining of a deep neglected shell
you ask so many questions
break from tradition and carry on with valor and feel
those flywheels churn you blenderhead