These cannot be roots,
they push me up, propped for reception.
Taking in, taking in the waves, inside my head
taking out what makes a dream real.

Clamped on the ears, fed through a tube,
tumultuous beauty brings water to these unneeded eyes.
It could save or it could damn,
But Prometheus knew it would burn.

Floating, cut loose, my struggle without sound,
deep in love with my cure of kinetic chaos.
One more step, another layer, always to be on my toes.

My carrier sways on choppy waters,
stuck in my storm of sound.
The tic-tac of stones falling inspires another ego.

Blocking inside,
Muscles can't remember this!
the stories will be told, and space men,
walking dead, will tell them all.

transfer, tragedy, transparent, treason, and truth.
Come down, come down, come down, to the world you love and hate.
Descending from heights I've known my whole life,
Inking another chance at immortality.
The time you've taken here will insure
my return.

This is the legacy.