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Downhill

I'm leavin' to walk the road inside my head

with cord in hand and powder breath I stand and wave goodbye

goodbye...the system automatic thinks, while buying blood on Broadway street where the old messiahs go

that pulsing through the atmosphere are answers to the questions you should know

don't let it go, or it's all downhill from hereexamples of the afterlife responding visions half the time and the other vertigo

spun off the Earth a thousand times and caught the wind that purifies the soul

you should know, it's all downhill from herelost out here adrift in lights, it's wondrous

weightless in clouds of colors the world will never see

and I am a figment of realitywrapped in the shroud of endless night I scream aloud

but no one hears, so I tell my stories to satellites

and I am lost inside a memorythe pattern picks the pockets of the palindrome

back to front the loss remains the same

and it beckons to the East to give the West its eyes

while the oscillating rhythm marks its bones

to the young it gives a vision of the dead and gone

while the old receive a passion to survive

and the pattern picks the pockets of the palindrome

before the oscillating rhythm takes to flight...

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