Fleeting visions.
Little glimpses of inside.
Looking through the third eye.
The mind is now open.
Do we transmit? Do we receive?
More oddities whirl about.
Sometimes the station's tuned for
Optimum reception.
A life so real, so perfect resides in us.
Our mind's our keeper,
The file cabinet of humankind.
Coming to life in vivid blasts of color.
People, things, words,
All mixed up in the soup of delusion.
Chaos, confusion, rapid change,
All a part of dreams.