And the gold turns to red with no time for changes. Red Shift, all moving away from we. Once, constellations were holy, now darkness pervades all the older ones and in the brunt of implosion, all yesterday's golden now reddened suns and hope is a word with no space for blame in. Red Shift, displaced now in time and relativity, Red Shift, all moving away from we. So here I am, though I might well be with me, I'm falling down deep to the rim of the wheel.
Time locked in negative matter, all theories shatter beneath the weight.
Happy is the man who believes that the world is a dream and all reason, fate. And time moves on with no time, the eye moves on with no rhyme, and I'm a song in the depth of the galaxies. The words I slur are pre-ordained, we know them anyway. If you cross the stream you never can return, If you stay you'll surely burn. There's a line snaking down my mirror, splintered glass distorts my face and though the light is strong and strange it can't illuminate the musty corners of this place.