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.