On echoes of life bent on other earths
steamed by other suns in the wake of other deaths
in songs uninterpreted by other open ears
an enigma awaits quieting all of our fears
We think we’re alone but they are watching and they hear
We think we’re intelligent but we are nowhere near
We scream lies of love every second of every day
So they never even bother to venture our way…
My Mind, My Mood, My delicately poisoned pen... 