"Your eyes are like a window to your retinas, in that case...yeah and what else? Retinas, the man says, and no soul - where you come from is where you're going, lump a' cosmic dust strewn across an expanding nothing...
(the jewel-scattered hand still beckons like it's got some desperate thing to prove...)
take your leave to Delphi, try and find some truth, mingled with the python's dream...gotta know how it all ends cause I can tell it's killing you slow, wearing down to nothing what might be your soul..."
-Jenkins Prinkensplatt, from At the Foot of the Muses Mountain
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