Thousand shades of brown
splashing through the empty pipe
Are dreams or nightmares going down ?
none too certain, fancy paper`s wipe
Brain in pains, trying to grasp
orgasms charging `cross `no man`s land`
can`t stand the passion, oh so vast
of pure substance, of meaning so grand
Brain in pains, scattered remains
Walpurgis night or X-mass comin` ?
could they care, those pinkish stains
perhaps if only proper shape was there
Brain in pains, shapeless and still
immovable completely, creativity slain
Pushin` up the daisies, burning the bill
demons mowed down, angels pulling the chain !
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