There’s a fire inside the woods…must be igniting the senses of some hitchhikers. 

I haven’t anything to do except watching that burn the desire of nirvana out of me, 

while the train escapes along the tracks of metallic dilemma. 

I must be on that fierce downhill flight watching the train finding the death inside the eloquent tunnel, 

I had to be on that gravitational pull to experience the quaint aeroplane falling from the cotton sky. 

I dream to be out there somewhere between wisdom and hallucinations, between dimensions of esoteric stars to behold the outbursts of aerodynamics.

I wish to be the comet swirling through your blue sky on a failed afternoon. 

I just need to find the nylon string before my grave.