Strike a dime’s eye.
It’s your might.
Are we children?
Or are we dancers?
A child dances upon leaves.
Who are we?
Figure it out.
A cold doubt.
We are the Kings and Queens of Mystery Eternal.
A golden sun upon yourself.
Am I you?
Am I him?
(frame).
Deny the God upon your servant’s brow.
In your head are we?
Then what are we here for?
I fold my eyelid over itself.
Get up.. ready… GO!
He would hold it up.
I would hold it in.
Get that out your system.
Control. Buddy.
Control…
And the gaseous display.
Who’s this dirts’ eye?
It’s your right.