Flies are the Cameras of God. Invisibly connected to the eternal

Frequence of their collective Data-Memory they are watching from

every Corner since Millions of Years, dragging all Seen within

them, and if we dare to listen they buzz their Films into our

Dreams...



A 'Bowl with gleamfresh Milk

and Bread from Worker's Hand' - Taste

accompanies blurred Views of Movement,

curved in a Point with Wings and Eyes.



It buzzes a Wave like in dump Fever-Memories

and wobbles sweet Circles around the Child's Eyes.

Dusk in young Senses, to warm Realms they drown,

bewiched by the Voice of the Flyman



and Sleepman comes - Echoworld Caravan

Dreamsandhead synapsed to Diamonds,

back to the Bottom where it all began,

the Mirrors of Echoworld.



Sheep keep on counting into the warm Whoolfuneral Whirls

Sleep deep down falling into dead Angle's shining Worlds

...and loose all ClingMarks.



"Folge mir in den Sonnenschein

durch Zauberfelder und St¤dte aus Eins.

Bald wìrd' Dein Leben ein gl¤serner Sarg,

hier bleibst Du Licht, alle Freunde sind da,

Komm!"



When will I see Mum and Daddy again?

Sie kommen bald nach!

Will Peter join us, and Mary and Dave?

Wann immer er schl¤ft!

High down so heavy we fly Timecream-Skies.

Children are playing and sing by our Side,

Schala-la-la, Der Schlafmann kommt.



Schlaf, schlafe, schlafe, komm und bleibe fìr immer...



Das Kind ganz ruhig im Bette liegt,

blau im Gesicht, mit leerem Blick,

und starrt der Mutter Tr¤nen wund:

"Der Schlafmann hat mich heimgeholt..."



...and if we dare to follow we never will return...