Philosopher: "I find the best way to gather
no moss is to examine
the stones very carefully, making sure the stream
runs quickly around them."
Chorus:
"The grave shall always get its due
it crouches underground;
you see the shadows thicken fast
but evening makes no sound."
Philosopher: "I eat my meals in silence, and the only
sound I hear
is the clink of ice in the glass. It looks like a
granite stone."
Chorus:
"The daylight tracks you everywhere,
through cracked and battered floors;
you waver eastward, waver west,
but cannot find a door."
Philosopher: "I'm looking at the moon tonight because
all the lights
have gone out. Tomorrow I'll see if the sun still
works."
Chorus:
"The skeletons crowd 'round your home,
they line up two-by-two;
you've given them a bone to munch,
but now they're after you."
Philosopher: "I know why solipsism is the crux of the
human
problem. It gets one out of the running stream, and
away from the granite stones."
Chorus: "Mirrors
have their secret ways,
the past reflects tomorrow;
you slide somewhere between the days
abandoned to your sorrow ."
Philosopher: "I have finally discovered the secret of
life: it lies in
metempsychosis."
Chorus:
"Lives may come, and lives may go,
when gazing at the moon;
who knows where a life may flow
while bones watch from the gloom."
Philosopher: "Something's wrong. How did I get into this
vault?
No matter. I will arrive at a state tomorrow where
the creatures can't find me. Then I can dream."