there is no insanity, rather a super sanity

more suited for life at the end of the 20th century

where everything is art,

and everything is trying to express it,

where everything is art,

and everything is trying to comunicate it...



all intelligent beings sleep the dreaming of dreams

and they've all come up to meet me tonight

although while in the morning, all their wonder and their

glory was turned ugly and quite simple

like a venue when you're loading in gear



sexuality, eroticism in asexual pursuasions.

man or woman, make's no difference in the outcome

no fasion, no tolerance for stupidity or ignorance

... "adidas" or "the arch deluxe"...

and time is now an object



oh my fucking god...

oh I'm fucking god...

and I'll dream all this into becoming real



and until such time that you can prove me otherwise

I will continue with my agnostic travels

until I've found a place that dreams with me...

...a place that feeds on my rountine



all I want is my mommy...

all I want is my mommy...

all I want is my mommy...

all I want is my mommy...



this is the night that it all changes