The voices get louder, don't they?
Echoing, shaking, consuming.
You'll try and run, boy,
you'll try and hide, but
they'll find you. In the dark,
in the war,
in the deep.
Plug yourself in,
plug your ears and shut
your weary eyes.
They can't hurt you,
not if you don't see them,
hear them,
know them.
Let the music swallow you.
Your very being lost, now,
to the turn of the tide
and the hum of the bass.
You are not you.
You are a vessel,
the being in which
my gift shall inhabit.
Let me guide you,
boy, as you run,
run,
run away.
Let me run with you
and hold your hand
in the darkness.
Don't be swayed by
the claws on my hands.
They mean well,
my boy, believe
let the stars be your guide.
I'm only here to help,
just show yourself,
slow your heart,
and talk
talk
talk to me,
tell me your woes.
I won't hurt you.
I won't hurt you...
Their eyes?
The sight of them,
white and black and grey and blue?
It hurts, does it?
I'll keep you safe,
my boy, just listen
listen
listen to me.
Take off the headphones,
for a moment,
for a second.
They silence the voices,
but they'll come back
louder, harsher, louder.
Distraction will only get you
so far.
Live with the loudness,
adapt. Evolve.
You are better than them, my boy,
so ignore my claws
and let me guide you.
