His world is suddenly filled with action and simplicity
There is no light, but there is sound
It fills him in great, sluggish waves
Not heard, but felt through his hundred cells
The cells pulse, separate, contract
According to the rush of fluid
This is man, the basis of his being, the flow
He is in his own blood
His world is suddenly filled with action and simplicity
There is no light, but there is sound
It fills him in great, sluggish waves
Not heard, but felt through his hundred cells
The cells pulse, separate, contract
According to the rush of fluid
This is man, the basis of his being, the flow
He is in his own blood
