The words of the guitarist Colin Robison guide this visual poem "Spinning in Infinity, yet ceasing would be blasphemy, tiring of the irony of buying what is free.
The evidence is monsterous, the structure is incongrous, the government is on to us for wanting harmony.
My energy is inadequate to applicably handle it, its a bland and scandalous pandering of Chi.
But love cannot be traced or scanned, its a weary face or waves in sand, yet money's what's in demand, not a wealthy heart like me."
