I walked past a neon boulder this afternoon in the rain
I thought I was hallucinating visions;
or else I had finally learnt to see.

Sometimes people will smile, and then yes,
sometimes they'll frown,
but always they will do something
because always there's a'somethin' to do.

And the God's at teatime decided to forgive them,
making Jesus gwaff and slap his thigh spilling his wine
onto his White robes,
whilst the Big Bang exploded loudly excited by the
Commotion, whilst a Darwin&an Einstein a Hitler&a Mother Teresa
sucked their tea-dipped biscuits and
wondered whether
they’d be reborn.

And then they all stood for singin'time and to dance all over the clouds,
and the singin' was really a way of a mockin' all the things a'happenin' below.
- all these Reactions leading to Reactions leading to movement
-stay still say the yogis and the mediators
-run free say the hedonists
-make yourself known said Hercules, and that was really about it.

Oh maybe maybe my sweet Baby
they’ll kiss&we’ll laugh
and then we can see that none of this is anything
then sir, then sir, then will we be "free?"
(laughter in the background)

But down below the gods during teatime
is another sort of song from the matrix of madness of this shrivelled raisin
injecting his grimy diseased veins with their raison d’etre,
as he sings:
“China, China White, come with me (come with me) as we chase the dragon across that kaleidoscope people call a sky,
China, China White, come float with me, come be pure with me, be impure with me, pure impure. I implore. “

I walked past a neon boulder this afternoon in the rain
(I thought I was hallucinating visions)
Or else I had finally learnt to see.

But look! How pretty this pink paper is on the parcel we’re proud to present you as a present for your performance on a curtain-less stage by a forum devoid of an audience,
Oh look how nice we can make all these things (in the world),
how simple, (and yet you will not be bored),

(ha ha ha! Oh! Ha Ha Ha Ha!)

And lend me your ear as I listen to the water that rumbles far below places where lightening slits open a blood-less sky where simple-single-minded souls manipulate so much stopping all these million minds gliding to a place called in-fin-e-tee