Cursed eyes, that spawn the lies, which go to my head, and turn me to dread, who then says hello, and looks down below, because the floor had disappeared, and too late had reappeared, so that I fell into a hole, and met a really quite angry mole, who did try to spite me, but could only bite me, and then I ran away, to where the world would fall away, where I couldn't see in the dark, even with the help of a spark, except when I got rare views, of the light which just seems confused, a feeling not described with words, but instead with the wonderful song of the birds, whose language doesn't set them free, but does allow them escape of the trees, to fly into the distance just away from the world, to that most wonderful of places where the gods chose to hurl, so that everything's pure difference, but like here there's no difference, because each and every place has normality, no matter what is the current reality, because the truth is that no one matters, not even if they are mad hatters, because in society we're meant to live as one, or else face the risk of the world coming undone.

But I want to see, what this non-world would be. Maybe it's where I'd be able to be free, happy and whatever the hell else I wanted to be, but just so you know, even though I don't really know, the truth about everything, is that the truth means nothing, because in the end, when there's no time left to spend, we'll all hold hands, and listen to our favourite bands, if only for the comfort momentary, which can be brought by random familiarity, so that you might die happy if you knew where you were going, or maybe just if you knew the story was ending, because you'd finally realise, that things which materialise, can never be treated as real, and must be discarded like pieces of veal, if only because they seem pointless to you, even more so than saying cows go moo, only reason you should ever choose death is if you drug yourself with stuff like meth, because in the end death means to have time, but at the same time not being able to rhyme, nor to ever do anything but spin in the nothing, just waiting for something with the clock ever ticking.

And so the only way we'll ever know joy like the five-year old kid who's got a new toy, is if we break all the clocks throw them all off the docks, and into the ocean with no hope of resurrection, so that once and for all we'd no longer have to crawl, burdened by the pressures of time which when wound tried to make things unwind, for though it was us who tried to find constants by making the clock and things like measurement, and though we aren't all the wiser now and many of us are still asking how, it should be when we start the quest for freedom to finally capture and kill this unreachable kingdom, we still know that all's not right and that there is always black and white, but that you can't always see differences between eternities, if only because of the fact that we're blind to the ticking ticking which slowly unwinds, just know that if we could kill prince time and at the same time find a new way to rhyme, it would be the first step towards a different world I will never say better because god hurl is hurl, but different is change and life must always rearrange, because that is the meaning of life that even in strife, we will fight to survive and all just because it is Our life.