Prosaic paradise of lost recumbence,
In time without a time,
In space without the space,
Rebirth, life after life,
As migratory specks...
Upward, promenading earth,
Deep conscience, heavy load,
We're nothing but some dirt,
And water makes us mold,
The spirit, as in life, we squirt...
Twain love is both connected,
With light and darkness all at once,
Everything dies and resurrected,
Understands Universe in trance,
We're all One... strong affected...
Sit still and let the magic dance...