The sensors in our nerves
Receptors will observe
The subject universe
What’s present in the world
Do the sensors in our nerves have restrictions, and in essence, those
Receptors will observe only what they can process in
The subjective universe that’s all only our perceptions, and
What's present in the world might more than we’re assessing?
Is the umwelt of our biology biased by our own novelties?
Honestly, do allele oddities all modify visual properties?
Just semiospheres of ecology with ghost particles we can’t see
Is the ghost just the machine in beings but the ghost isn’t in the skene? Tell me!

Where ya gonna turn, discerning the foundation?
What are the unknowns missing from the equation?
Who is pressing in beginning the invasion?
Ghost particles in the machine

Consciousness conserved, parallel and noumenal
Through event horizons spurned, atoms from the crucible
Thoroughly, we search to know death is commutable
For the founder’s handiwork and other factors provable
Late September, '17, 600 miles from the scene
Drive all night, remembering this matriarch so nurturing
Telling stories, little things, that make distinct a human being
Of whom every soul in town seems to speak reverentially
Suddenly, olfactory, hijacking the remembering
Everywhere it seems, the smell of death, its breath besets and clings
On the neck and temple, transubstantiation’s scent, it brings
Materialistic seams fracturing, what is happening?

Where ya gonna turn, discerning the foundation?
What are the unknowns missing from the equation?
Who is pressing in beginning the invasion?
Ghost particles in the machine

Hitting against the limits; never the same
Taking what it gives us; reality is change
Details in the distance: the people, the pain,
Desire still remains; the change is in the aim
How is this, that I'm missing what this essence envisions?
It it real what I feel, when what matters is in this instance?
Or is it? These visions hint there is more, are we caught?
In a collective unconsciousness between The City and The Stars
While we're exiled, Earthbound in this mission, held under thumb
A thumbnail shadow, on the path to what we've already become
Maybe we see an unbound mien, our future selves breaking free
The icon represents a theme, but never nearly the real you and me

Where ya gonna turn, discerning the foundation?
What are the unknowns missing from the equation?
Who is pressing in beginning the invasion?
Ghost particles in the machine