MIMA

Who but a God creates itself? Pulling consciousness from calculus and current? Only our MIMA Our precious MIMA We gather around MIMA's pedestal Bringing offerings and pleas for intercession All for our MIMA Our blessed MIMA MIMA shows us such great wonders Fantastic sights, known and unknown Our MIMA connects us to the living universe And without her, we'd be desperately alone Desperately alone MIMA speaks no more of earth these days But we get flashes of white-hot, melting stones And MIMA cries: "Deliver me from these visions. How grim it always is, one's detonation How terror blasts in How horror blasts out. How grim it always is, one's detonation." Forgive us