From the recording crossing bridges
I am driven, you drive me on, but I’m swerving like a googled-eyed youth. It’s like my recipe, I can’t let go of, the sugar pouring in without direction.
How are we to carve out the wood of deceit? Encompass me and take the plunge of the unsung
Each angle that bends, no matter which direction I have to face all my tendencies. I am a vapor, of it all, The only thing that I have left is my freedom. Coming over the descent (freedom is the only thing I have left)