A mind that's been stretched to newer frames Can never return to it's original state, And in the sensation that you feel, The one that comes and fades, Is a perfect greatness lying in wait. Freedom from impulse Has never been required more Than it is in relation to the state we're in, And it will take so much more Than progressive metal can hope to achieve With all of its intention and spacey themes. Please, come with me. And I don't speak out of arrogance or failure to believe In a collective conscious being But when I see such a heavy focus on imagery It takes me and sends me reeling Into a sadness deeper than the soundest sleep. All I ask for is an unbiased listen, And I will not pretend to be an authority On anything I haven't studied Let alone felt or heard or seen. If I have not been, I won't speak.