This is the end
This is the bend
This is the bending
This is the beginning
This this is that
This this that is
That this is that
That this this is that
The beginning of the end is the end of that beginning
The begging to begin the end of the bend
Breaking the begging for bending the bed to bread
To sleep in the bed of the bending end
Give us our morning bread to end the beginning of the begging
For the sleep we slept is sending us into a new slumber
Sent us into a sleep that slept too much to remember slumber somberly
Somber sleep shall send us into sensational shaping of silence
Ending the entrance to the enterprise in the entertainment
That’s what this was and what this always will be
Memories remember the forgotten lore of loss galore
Feeding the faceless with frames of freedom frozen by fate
This that is this but that is not this
Nor is that the result of yesterday,so give us tomorrow
Yes this is the answer to the question of what this is
And what is can never be,so begin to end the ending of the bend
Bending the bed for bread shall free their heads from the new dead
This is what is in the right but is always wrong,thought is always thoughtless
Fixing the broken but forgetting to remember the tools
This maze we call knowledge but no one knows what is never known
And the map to the maze is inside the grey lines
The lines therefore are always out of reach in this colorful life
Unless you strip your sight without losing your mind