Cheap theatre, cheap movie, that's how we begin, With patched-up dreams and secondhand skin, We take our seats in the flickering light, Hoping a broken story might still feel right.

The sound cracks, the script falls apart, But we stay, clapping with half-open hearts, The heroes stumble, the endings fray, Still we laugh and we cry and we stay.

No refunds, no rewinds, no better show, Just the slow unraveling we pretend we know, The ticket was cheap but the cost runs deep, We pay with the promises we couldn't keep.

Cheap theatre, cheap movie, our messy design, Crooked dreams projected on borrowed time, And maybe just maybe that's all we need, A cracked-up world where we still believe..

Your world is eternally complete.
You don't need to change a thing.
Your existence is already gem concrete.
A divine white hole gives off rays and transmits an unfamiliar being.

A seed that blooms into a drop of water,
A destiny, ready to be changed by the sky god.
Sprouts gushing everywhere, born from the mud.
A mother has seen it all, asks for protection against this creation, odd.

Shadows dressed as sparkling beams float around,
Befooling the pure, hoping to capture the crown.
Words as soft as pongee, elevating the snake from its hole, deep down,
Spreading the decay, now it is dead on the lawn.

The outer layer finally cracks open after forever.
Has been thousands of years, now its job is to be the cycle breaker.
Such a miraculous blessing of nature, to be no wiser:
Oh to possess a soul too serene to comprehend the tempter.

A photon is destined to proceed forwards,
One's mission only to exist for creating radiance.
Scarcely, only for a moment, for a soul sky god has its eyes over, one particle jumps backwards,
Creating another realm where signs from the future comes down to past as divine messages.

Uneasy senses overflowing from the intuition,
For those who cannot see, it is just an illusion.
One must not question sky god's compassion,
Sending signs even for those blinded by realm of skeletons.