Coo this thing,what is this thing?,this reality,this next word will not rhym haha,The fucking bats fly up up.Have you seen the night with it`s white mountains,beautiful fountains of diamonds and gold,i be tolding this too you,that it is there to be seen,but not where eyes can see,but just north of where hearts do beat,take a trip on a magical flowing ride,this is the tide of your life i talking of it is a red liquid called blood encapsulated by the vain wich you ride like a supertube to the place i mean,the place where you see those white mountains and beatiful fountains,this is the place that reads these lettrs,this is the place that is 2/3rds you,the place where what the Fuck i mean is the imagination.What i mean is,if you stand at the door and look at the darkness,there is so much to see that you cannot see,only God knows.So walk up to the door of your mind instead,the road leading there is pretty like on a farmstead.Knock 3 times,it will open but only once you read the engraving on the door:relax this is not a stranger,trust me,be still and collapse now lets love each other.Then you go inside,my hands type this ride but only once it gets the message from the place,the place you are looking in now,standing in the doorway,wishes of Norway.There is a fire burning in this lovely room there are warm couches and chairs,sweet apples and pairs,velvet carpets,and the happiness of good street markets.Uming and Awing Rodingly starving you are for this,for this,for this