Lost all my civic pills,
but when some lean it's good.
There's no left, no right,
in this chaos slumber.

The more I try to see in something,
the more it crusts on my skin.
Whether just or not its vain,
burns in a second.
The well is getting deep and deeper.

Hounds are overtaking,
nobody cares enough to run.
And though some are faking,
they'll just wait to be saved
with their heads down.
Now we're here to fight for them,
the only thing back at us
are sharp rocks from the same ground
they swore to protect.
And its not even warm. In fact its dead cold.

Materialising all of this would be much more fun
if you just gave up,
but it wont make it less wrong.
Stick to your ground, despite it's dead cold.





Lydia's Sleep Setubal, Portugal

Lydia's Sleep is down the Valley of Depth. Emerging with each wave.

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