Like an endless fountain, rushing out of the very center
The same center that contains
the very essence of creativity

Wall's are rising high above
Where the eye can no longer see
Most of them are blind to see, and deaf to hear
Most of them are so blind
They cannot even begin to conceive the ideals,
And cataclysmic proportion of the way
humanity degrades life.


I'm sitting high above these walls,
Watching as people make their way on
the endless maze of manipulation.

They all stand in groups trying to ridicule me,
trying to say I am the blind one.

I feel sorry for those poor souls,
The one who really believes in one's awareness.
For those who truly believe we are all awake.

Music, is the solution, music will set us free