He returns from his mixed-up memories to the passage he was previously stuck in. this time he discovers a long carpeted corridor
There is lambswool under my naked feet
The wool is soft and warm
- gives off some kind of heat
A salamander scurries into flame to be destroyed
Imaginary creatures are trapped in birth on celluloid
The fleas cling to the golden fleece
Hoping they'll find peace
Each thought and gesture are caught in celluloid
There's no hiding in my memory
There's no room to avoid
The walls are painted in red ocher and are marked by strange insignia, some looking like a bulls-eye, others of birds and boats. further down the corridor, he can see some people; all kneeling
Broken sighs and murmurs they struggle, in their slow motion to move towards a wooden door at the end. having seen only the inanimate bodies in the grand parade of lifeless packaging, rael rushe
Talk to them
The crawlers cover the floor in the red ochre corridor
For my second sight of people, they've more lifeblood than before
They're moving in time to a heavy wooden door
Where the needles eye is winking, closing in on the poor
The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
Weve got to get in to get out
Weve got to get in to get out
Weve got to get in to get out
What's going on? he cries to a muttering monk, who conceals a yawn and replies it's a long time yet before the dawn. a sphinx-like crawler calls his name saying don
K him, the monk is drunk. each one of us is trying to reach the top of the stairs, a way out will await us there. not asking how he can move freely, our hero goes boldly through the door
D a table loaded with food, is a spiral staircase going up into the ceiling
There's only one direction in the faces that I see;
It's upward to the ceiling, where the chambers said to be
Like the forest fight for sunlight, that takes root in every tree
They are pulled up by the magnet, believing they're free
The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out
Mild mannered supermen are held in kryptonite
And the wise and foolish virgins giggle with their bodies glowing
Bright
Through a door a harvest feast is lit by candlelight;
It's the bottom of a staircase that spirals out of sight
The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out
The porcelain manikin with shattered skin fears attack
The eager pack lift up their pitchers - they carry all they lack
The liquid has congealed, which has seeped out through the crack
And the tickler takes his stickleback
The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out
