Still We Wander In Sweet Pleasent Dreams

The House of Cards

Ruined by a blowing storm,

Turns to a piece of art,

Millions and billions of weird forms,

And back to big black blurs.

The vicar laughs

And puts on me a curse.

Still we wander in

Sweet pleasant dreams.

Again and again we’re trapped in our own minds.

Can’t turn back to the signs in the fields,

Can’t hide our insect skin

In the deepest mines.

Even if we had wings

We won’t see at all

Because the darkness

Would keep our eyes

From seeing the things

If big or small

And clouds would appear

And mist might rise

That’d lay down a grey iron veil

To cover the land

No eagle eye could break through these ancient lies,

No hammer destroy these evil rocks.

No matter how hard or how long we would try,

We all would fail and keep the door locked.

Still we wander in

Sweet pleasant dreams

With both of our feet nailed to the ground.

Doomed to fate, bound to our densities,

We can’t get out

We shan’t get out.