Weather Machine

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Antoni Krupski

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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

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