(Instrumental)

"To avoid a void" In Fall The Orgones have a different fall - Try to absorb them all, Try to help even those who suffer their own faults. Always offer - never be demanding, Oddly, those who ask, offer not a thing. Try to pass through even when the light turns yellow - To avoid a void. Or, the desired toy for your 5th birthday is to arrive when you retire.

"To transcend" "This piece of sky is mine" a falcon once said, And all the sparrows flightless on the ground were left. (The borders of a mind put borders on the land.)

"To travel into those lands and heavens, too" In the vast atelier of the finest artist, spheres are perpetually composing themselves. Trying to emulate, the artist's self-proclaimed most aware children went only as far as doing cubes. Their efforts were worthless. But living should not be worthless, and though it might appear not to have a purpose, all of these children were now supposed to seek for their own primordial wish, and find joy, which is sacred to each. Since, all of the fruits grow to be eaten. And hence, love can't be made less exquisite by its final intent, nor can all of Universe's calculations deny the existence of its forces divine. Thereby, the holiest turned out to be the most worldly. How gorgeous it is, how lovely, yet how ugly, How disgusting is the discrepancy of an idea desacralized by the same who claim to worship. It's happening repeatedly on each side - on the left and the right, by cloven-hoofed and by wings of white. So it is certain how east of the curtain left twisting in the wind was the May King, for he truly had been left on the wing. What a ridiculous misinterpretation... Ignorant fools! You revere out of fear - hatred's ancestor! But fear and respect can never go well together. Aren't you tired of hatred? Could it ever bring anything but sorrow? Aren't you fed up with eminences - grey, or whatever their color? Have you ever had an ambition apart from papers - green, or whatever their color? How come you can not see? The water has reached its boiling degree. It's not even a theory any longer, it's going to an extreme. I have a foreboding we are also moving towards an extreme, although the antipodal one. Surely, resistance must not be partial, but dogma can only leave us with an elusive rival, just like two opposite-colored bishops who buy self-protection pistols to protect them from someone else's self-defense weapon, which defends them from someone else's...and so on, All with the same excuse, of course - That's the way this new world works. Well then, a different kind of a new world is needed - a sort of more open-minded. Ignorant fools! That ignorance of yours is nothing more than a false claim of knowing all there is to be known, as if we could ever stop growing. Such a peculiar idea... I thought we ought to cherish our infancy And grow with our own elixir of efficiency. Our Magick should be mighty! We ought to use it wisely! We should be able to make a difference, To cause changes with our presence! And now that our seeds have been sown, To create a new language of our own, To find a key, each of us to their own door. To fulfill the vacant space, not to assimilate, nor be assimilated or degraded. Since, variety should not be sinful. And hence, euphemisms are no longer useful. We have to stop with their usage, We have to say no excuses, To need no excuses as well, To love with no excuses and To live with no excuses, too. Not to head in a wrong direction developing aggression out of frustration because of an unrealized potential. To spend a lifetime rethinking and still remain skeptics, while someone tries to refute us with not even a minute wasted. To be unable to sit still, even though we can go on living well, And to give others a torch if their worlds have been scorched or if their embers perished quickly. To put together the parts that were missing. To persevere, even when pessimistic, To persistently seek a vision of a mystic, To wait then until a sudden epiphany happens revealing thus a mental equivalent of new lands and heavens. To travel into those lands and heavens, too, And to see there for ourselves how spheres are taking their shapes.

"To paint" Should I draw some more lines? Or, maybe put some more colours.. Or... Let's try and look at it from a different angle. Not bad, but yet.. Could you give it a look? I should get a new canvas and start it all over, Isn't it so? Or, maybe give this one another chance, who knows.. It seems better already. Now I realize - darker shadows make the vivid, illuminated parts shine even brighter. Despite always being exalted by the idea, but never fully pleased with the result, And, despite that very often it feels like my brush is being moved by someone else, I'm gonna keep on - After all, It's my signature that I add in the end.

(Instrumental)

"?" A chained dog I have never seen that didn't eventually reveal its teeth. What if we were all to do the same - obligations to take, or others to blame? What if the sun didn't set here - could it then rise on the other hemisphere? ...Speaking of hemispheres - Is your mind preoccupied? How long is it being fertilized before a new idea's birth occurs? Is that Quantum leap happening soon? I know what you are thinking - You may have not left an impact. Still... Did you do your will? Did you enjoy your half a cigarette? Do you regret?