By The Fireplace In White

The drifting night
Begets my footsteps
I press this pavement
Until my feet scrape
In the back of my head i
Saw you in the back of
My head i found a knife
Dangling from your face
Looked like a seed
To many gauges
Our thoughts controlled
My head is much bigger
My claws, my fingers dipped in blood
They’ve been cut to many times be warned
You’ll find, you’ll find, you’ll find, you’ll find
I took my head off, i saw you in the back of
What’s in the back of? A knife dangling?
Rub my face, looks like a seed to many gauges
My thoughts controlled, my head my fingers digging around
My fingers drenched in coke’n blood to many times
To many handling, to many handling , to many handling, to many handling
Why for what? for what? for what? what for?
You’ll find, find, you’ll find, you’ll find, you’ll find, you’ll find
Do you remember …


"The fear was so powerful that it seemed to make my personality completely evaporate. I do not think that my ordinary humanity survived the transition to this little room. I died, and a wild animal appeared in my place. Not everything was gone, though. What remained, although small, nevertheless was occupied with an essential task of verification. I was looking around as best I could, recording what I saw.
The small, circular chamber had a domed, grayish-tan ceiling with ribs appearing at intervals of about a foot. Across the room to my right some clothing was thrown on the floor. As a matter of fact, the thought even crossed my mind that the place was actually dirty. It was close and confining for me. The whole scale of it was small, tight, and enclosed.
Tiny people were now moving around me at great speed. Their quickness was disturbing, and in a curious way ugly. It was a truly awful sensation, accompanied as it was by the sense that I was absolutely helpless in the hands of these strange creatures.
I know that I was seated on a bench, leaning against a wall. The predominant colors were tan and gray. The bench was the same color as the walls, and was rimmed by a lip of dark brown.
There was something quite beautiful, I think, having to do with a lens in the ceiling, but I can remember little about it. Perhaps there was a lens at the point of the ceiling, through which some colorful scene could be observed.
There is no way to be certain of how long I remained in this room. It seemed to be a stay of no more than a few minutes or even seconds. It may have been longer, though, because I had time to look around me and note numerous details. While I had before been totally paralyzed, I was now able to move at least my eyes and possibly my head.
The next thing I knew, I was being shown a tiny gray box with a sliding lid. There was a curved lip at one end of this box, to make it easy to push it open. It was being held by a thin, graceful person whose appearance was not distinct.
My memory of the one that came before me next is of a tiny, squat person, crouching as if huddled over something. He had been given the box and now slid it open, revealing an extremely shiny, hair-thin needle mounted on a black surface. This needle glittered when I saw it out of the corner of my eye, but was practically invisible straight on.
I became aware–I think I was told–that they proposed to insert this into my brain."