The Giza Power Plant

Hardened... like when the fresh air burns the lungs
And spiraling harvests coagulate the mind that's rotting away

Thoughts within soil, from within the forms as such
Behind Death's realms of Earth-bound souls
Forever (caught) in a past that never happened

Astral trepanation yields transcendental ecstasies
And woes of frigid distance no longer feel
So far - but within reason, though out of reach

Through the doors we each must travel - different markings eirher side
Without knowing the different colors of each beast's aura

Predisposed inertias propagate alien histories
As timelines weave between them while you sleep