Weather Machine

And you'll see me at the coffee shop Selling memories twelve pound a box We're all addicted to that sacred touch Of living lie Ideas climb high in the mind More to realise when we're blind Spinning around Forgiving the sounds They're a part of me And I would say that they're welcome But they're so hard to see The shaman in me Needs to go to the machine Cus we're not seeing what's real As we float through the mind Nature's chaos run its stream And the clouds start to part Leaving all of space for us to see Falling through a past life There's a current that's intersegmental Existential measures cease to be Cease to mean All this life All this time All this life All this time Dragging down the powerlines Signals in a vocal rhyme Dragging down the powerlines to the weather machine Signals in a vocal rhyme In rhyme with you We need water for our tribe Hate to need, I concede Show us what's in store We go planting seeds, nature's lead Transdimensional And rationality Breaks and bleeds When it's seen to be nothing but us And reality Leaves us bare As we float through the mind Nature's chaos will intercede A transmission of love Intertwined with the weather machine All this time to realise How much all of it means to me Consciousness undefined We have tuned into reality