Rose-colored glasses are awakened
Flown outward the blueprints of your sleep
Three yellow birds cover my purple-stones of dreams

Lightly colored imprint of Shetland
Mysteriously etched into a remote shape
Sparked the imaginations of conspiracy

A covert attraction to your feathers
Harboring the secrets of the wind
Feel the heat and keep the cool

Learn to kill the intellect
Conscious isn’t an idea
Thought isn’t a material