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A complete stranger hands you a sealed envelope and asks you to choose an number between one and fifty. A bit puzzled, perhaps, you think for a moment and announce "twenty-eight". The stranger scribbles this in a notebook, tells you to open the envelope in two weeks, smiles, and disappears.

Two weeks later you open the envelope to find a piece of paper with "28" printed neatly in the centre. Your mind swims with possible explanations, including the possibility that it was merely a coincidence.

Today I'm listening
I'm listening to silence
The same way you do
I'm guilty and eyeless
Do you find joy in
Simple persuasion
I'm holding out for
A point of causation

Somehere someone strikes
Another distant plan
And all thats here is different
Again we understand
And all that change is perfect
A seamless certain hand
That holds a subtle force
We bend to its command

When what we can capture is not what it may seem
When the colour leaches from beautiful extremes
I can't face what it means

But a few days later, the stranger reappears with another envelope, you choose another number, and the sequence of events repeats. How many times would this have to occur before you accepted that something VERY STRANGE INDEED was going on?

Its Retropsychokinesis
Its Retropsychokinesis

When when the fabric of time breaks open once again
We've lost times arrow certainty extends

When the horror is no longer confined to here
Its creeping and its breath is felt as fear

When there's nothing left but soporific minds
Your plans have all been cast ahead of time

When what we can capture is not what it may seem

Seem, seem, not what it may seem

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not what it may seem, seem, not what it may seem

not what it may....... seem