the wave is fast, striking through china, amsterdam, new york, and mars.
the frequency is angry with the world it tears through the world, but doesnʻt touch it,
it hears the conversation but doesnʻt eavesdrop. the frequency waves have no time for madness
the night is dirty and filthy and horrible and i must climb off the frequency before my pay is filled
as the frequency is dirty too itʻs waves are tainted with the blood of the greedy
is that my blood? have i been torn, and shredded into a nothing of material objects
and a nothing of everything i could want? the waves are tainted with the fingerprints of the ungrateful
are those my fingerprints? did i find reality amidst the corruption or do i mean nothing to this?
are you with me? is everyone else lost in the void between moon and sun
is everyone else torn in the wavelengths and lightyears has everyone elseʻs mind gotten so dirty?
are you with me? the night is dirty and filthy and horrible and so i begin the quest out for a greater reality
and jump upon the back of the coyote but coyote only whispers in my hands coyote only feeds himself corn
but feeds me cactus
coyote is lost coyote is lost in the void too and coyote begins to understand my quest
and coyote trots our ways through texas and he trots our way to the coasts of the Atlantic
and coyote stops where itʻs cold coyote goes home and prays to his little
alter for health and prosperity whereʻs my coyote? the perpetual state of lost made coyote my friend
where is my coyote? i miss the coyote. the night is dirty and filthy and horrible
and i find those in the town i was born living in their cardboard dwellings
forever in the old world forever in the time and space weʻd all left
forever 2 and 3 and 6 and 30 forever playing tag forever hiding and seeking to find no one
where is the coyote? i canʻt stay here, the world is too different now,
and i get on my feet and walk to the coldest lands of the eastern atlantic and venture with the sharks
the night is dirty and filth and horrible shark can see it,
i tell him the coyote had trotted away, and the frequency was unreal
and the shark only tells me to find reality in the ground in the trees in the earth in the ocean
in the voids shark takes me to portugal and i make their bread and their soups and my hands are dirty
and i walk to spain to andalucia and i recollect my journies in the boarders of valencia
with no realities in my hands. the night is clean and beautiful and iʻve found something nothing is real yet
the coyote isnʻt real, the waves werenʻt real the sharks arenʻt real
but are in existence. the night is dirty and animals are filthy and we are horrible.
