On a dark rainy day, as lightning shined through the sky’s
A hut appeared on the high jaded hills of mount Vick.
For one day it was there and the previous it was not.
For it was a hut magical, a hut of souls unreal.
It was a lodge gray, with roof of red,
A dreamy house of a green lady of the Vick.
Lady older than time, lady with eyes bluer than the sky
And hair whiter than the snow that covered the hills.
A lady with a dream machine she was,
One of torment and one of nightmares.
One that takes reality and makes it a dream.
A machine not for one but for two.
One sit for you and one for your soul.
So your soul will roam forever in the nightmare world
Of her dreamland of forever.
For a hunting of colorful it shall be,
She shall tight you up in the chair so brown,
Turn on the button so orange,
Take all that is yours and make it a dream.
It shall tear up the life hidden in you,
Reach down your pink soft throat
Pull it out with nails of mauve,
Put it in a small silver box with an iron ribbon,
Lock it up and make you swallow the key.
A key yellow and a key of bones.
For as the key goes down the throat,
Your soul shall go down the drain,
And you who sit in naked
In the chair of life,
Will now sit in the chair of the dream.
For the body is here, but the soul is not.
It is gone flying in a world of terror
And a world of eternal nightmares.
So as in the green chair sit your lifeless corps
In the brown shall float her thunder reborn,
Her soul shall exist and yours shall be gone.
Went floating in a beyond the Vick
and beyond the sun so golden.
All is left of you shall be
The colorless shapeless shadow
Of beige in a dream machine of white,
Build by the evil lady with the blue eyes,
Up there high on the mountain tops,
Between the trees of the magnetic forest
Of the lost red souls floating above the dreams.
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