Now that the Buffalo's gone/B.S.M.- DEEP night/a passing of spirit world /Ahdy holds on to the dream while his teeth punch up

• We sit in this glass booth/it is we who are paid to do nothing but sing to the public in piped over voices channeling a sense of humor and destiny. The soft grass between our toes and the moon shots.(B.S.M.) We cannot find the peace anywhere but dealing with the public/a forum taught to us by our ancestors. It is this creation of inter amalgamation of the spirits weaving in an undestined light which brings forth the personality.