A terrible racket makes me suffer like a fanfare

Marching throughout my head

Booming so loud my soul has become deaf

Nevertheless reality stands firm

But a very strange conceptual world

Occurs inside this mad distorted ode

Behind my eyes comes the ludicrous crowd

Full of movie makers imagery

So forth I am so forth I dream

Frenzied and rushed unceasingly

Drawn by the wizard's patterns

My mind is no longer my own

Above those hardpacked illusions

Bright with pictures that shall kill the wise's vigour

Is spoiled a great generation

Mankind has lost its mind and therewith the arable ground

The vast field the great

Which the scholars own

Cursed species humans

Can you imagine

What shall save you once the intelligence

Will become speechless locked into silence

When you will remain a fabric's device

Old majesty deprived from her kingdom

Her memory will never carry on

There goes the orb of a system

Ones adorn with a sad Eden and others tried to make it perfect