who smell! senses my their yet lose that's it We that her feel
tub the snow Reversing the fields of time can prove that a giant
was once a tiny sperm And maybe then become how you must be (the
gods hath chosen, and they hath chosen me) but only the High Epoch
can make it learn the truth beyond, we all must yearn Sip, look at
the stars, and
I bequeath a chunk of my heart muscle to you