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Prisma
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Passion – The Highest Necessity
ransacking my sense
we scatter values ignore
the advance
the passion
it must be the highest achievement
ransacking my sense
for a simple and
comprehensible ideology
these hills of routine
in no one's land
ten children in a circle dead
full of inner shine
universal body suits
guide me to the well
a good good hiding place
guide me
guide me to the well
where pictures and definite messages
pretend to be a friend
a self portrail ignorance
lower animals,
strive
taste my wrath
taste my wrath
taste my wrath
taste my wrath
taste my wrath
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taste my wrath
taste my wrath
taste my wrath
taste my wrath
my thoughts
my revocation
extasy, im me and
you're the witness
so we graze
behind the fences
wink intention
bloom
strive
for your germs
spoiled
grace
to exist
grace in
every season
ten
children in a circle
dead
clean your longing in a fuck
passion the highest necessity
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