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1)
Cold penetrates my head
down in secret lair
descending, descending,
my senses hypnotized.
A.E.O.N agents after us
Me, Wolf, Michael
and miss Theodora,
dogs are barking,
Aztecs shouting
Wolf's becoming
really upset.
2)
Slit of a tank,
Death's taking shape.
I must control the eclipse
inside my head
Dogs are biting,
Aztecs laughing,
Wolf's becoming
I can't tell what.
Unspeakable
sicken bloodsmell
Death's 'round here
and Miss Theodora says:
" Get out of here !"
Myra's dream:
I was watching from the slit of a soviet tank,
the world was colliding the turrets exploding.
The fire columns, the sensation that was not just
steel versus steel but the end of a game.
And we were the right piece in the right place, and I was so happy
and I was so afraid. There' just one book, just one movie, just one song just one battle: but there's nothing that can't be rewritten.

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