1. Patterns

From the recording Patterns

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television blizzard burying the storyline
the stolen route, the suicide knife
I carelessly leave sitting out

myths of scattered ash the aftermaths the standing lasts
in painted caves in tidal waves
is the twisting fabric of doubt

well it came and saw and it conquered all
and the greatest plan
was a flash of love, of luck, of lightning

tucked away in molecules in vestibules in schools
are obscure rules, electric tools
and a method to this madness

so we opened our mouths and started asking questions
pointed telescopes at planets, pointed fingers, pointed weapons
and predicted our demise with our own imaginations
tombs we constructed for future generations

I thought it was clear, I thought I was dead
I thought that I was going to hell and I would never see you again
I thought it through and I'd rather change my mind
that behind the starry curtain there's nothing left to find