A rotating silvercolored plateau, 
Drops that dance down the Columns 
Blue, Cold and the raging starwind 
Glowing colors at fearful speed 

Indistnct pictures of prophets 
And visionaries in a galactic fog 
In outer space on an axis 
In another reality on a supersonic journey 

Inevitably he can see it, 
The lights are going out and he knows 
If he just could make us understand 
In the emptiness there is nothing that can draw the picture You want 

Just a stillborn child on hands that fumble 
Raging, Raging at incomprehensible pace 
The colors blinding, 
The plateau falls in outer hell 

The disclose that we had to die... 
We pit the hand that fed us 
In outer space on an axis 
In another reality on a supersonic journey 

Is this what is yet to come, 
Or a madman's reflection of the Soul? 
As when his heart cried out in pain 
When he perceived what 
Burdens we were to bear