You Fly, Or Rather Float, Drift

Through An Enormous Dark Room

A Room Of Noises



Endless Shimmering Glissandi

Crackling Pizzicato

Coal Black, Turbulence Holes Of Bass Drones

But Otherwise Empty

No Planets, No Meteorites

If Anything, Perhaps Fine Dust Clouds Of Exploded Music



You Float There, Somewhere Between Pleasure And Fear



In A Piece Of Time You Can't Determine

You're Everywhere But In The Present

Hey You Disappear Further And Further

Into These Incalculable Rooms

And Your Personality Fades Away



Your Features Evaporate, Your Body Decomposes



And Your Last Thought Is That

You Have Become A Noise

A Thin, Nameless Noise Among All The Others

Howling In The Empty Dark Room