What if the world were to wither away,
whaling at the sight of the moon...

There once was a name on a leaf whose branch
grew further than the reach of the sun...

Blind man, come forth to the sound of light;
played through the strings of Never...

Last night, I dreamed of flowers beneath a golden...
Rivers flowed to the left, where rows of date...

The glistening of a brazen eye
binds the spirits to the sky...

I know this place well by day,
but the waves speak a different tongue by night...

Dead weather comes again in a dress
of clouds and ecstasy...

Cigar smoke drifts across the room
and cradles the aroma of fresh espresso...

The dark moves on a quiet night.
Every shadow holds a candle, bright...

Scorched is the land 'neath where my feet lie,
where rain burns black in the dark, night sky...

What is it coming, dear?
What does it say...

A cold white bloom resides on a mountain top
Disowned by everything...