I feel honored to have been allowed to write this one. I'll feel better later though, if, and when I understand what I am talking about. It's different, I'll say that for it.

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I haven't got a clue, except, maybe... it's a little about how people don't pay any attention to what is going on around them and think everything they see through their windshield is part of a TV program. It will be interesting to see what happens when it happens to them. The first casualty of ubiquitous materialism is reality.

They don't know where they're going
They don't know what it means
You don't see false flags waving
in your iridescent dreams

The world goes out of focus
The mind turns upside down
The shaman shakes his rattle
everywhere is holy ground

The lotus just keeps rising
far above the murky lake
and blooms into a buddha
with every breath you take

No they don't know where they're going
They don't know what it means
cause their minds are all on fire
burning in some young girls jeans

The seed it hangs suspended
the trembling heart it seems
to give birth to cloudy mountains
In your iridescent dreams

Fire on the mountain
Fire in the lake
Fire burning in your mind
With every breath you take
The whole world is on fire
With the force of burning need
as the object of desire turns
in irridescent dreams

they don't know where they're going
They don't know what it means
all that wasted glory
keeps leaking through the seams

It all comes out of emptiness
and you're riding alongside
of the space through which you are passing
the horse on which you ride

the sound out of the silence
and the echo that won't die
the gleaming comprehension
that is shining in her eye

You can see the big wheel turning
You can see the prayers ascend
You can see the angels flying
In a spiral round the bend

You can hear the war planes thunder
You can hear the people scream
I'm surprised that you don't wonder
in your iridescent dreams

Fire on the mountain
Fire in the lake
Fire burning in your mind
With every breath you take
The whole world is on fire
With the force of burning need
as the object of desire turns
in irridescent dreams

The Pale Rider is mounted
on a nightmare in the sky
Cassiopeia is dancing
why don't you come outside