He returns from his mixed-up memories to the passage he was previously stuck in. This time he discovers a long carpeted corridor.
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There is lambswool under my naked feet.
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The wool is soft and warm,
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- gives off some kind of heat.
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A salamander scurries into flame to be destroyed.
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Imaginary creatures are trapped in birth on celluloid.
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The fleas cling to the golden fleece,
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Hoping they'll find peace.
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Each thought and gesture are caught in celluloid.
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There's no hiding in my memory.
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There's no room to avoid.
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The walls are painted in red ochre and are marked by strange insignia, some looking like a bulls-eye, others of birds and boats. Further down the corridor, he can see some people; all kneeling. With broken sighs and murmurs they struggle, in their slow motion to move towards a wooden door at the end. Having seen only the inanimate bodies in the Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging, Rael rushes to talk to them.
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The crawlers cover the floor in the red ochre corridor.
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For my second sight of people, they've more lifeblood than before.
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They're moving in time to a heavy wooden door,
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Where the needle's eye is winking, closing in on the poor.
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The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
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"We've got to get in to get out
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We've got to get in to get out
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We've got to get in to get out."
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"What's going on?" he cries to a muttering monk, who conceals a yawn and replies "It's a long time yet before the dawn." A sphinx-like crawler calls his name saying "Don't ask him, the monk is drunk. Each one of us is trying to reach the top of the stairs, a way out will await us there." Not asking how he can move freely, our hero goes boldly through the door. Behind a table loaded with food, is a spiral staircase going up into the ceiling.
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There's only one direction in the faces that I see;
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It's upward to the ceiling, where the chamber's said to be.
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Like the forest fight for sunlight, that takes root in every tree.
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They are pulled up by the magnet, believing they're free.
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The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
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"We've got to get in to get out
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We've got to get in to get out
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We've got to get in to get out."
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Mild mannered supermen are held in kryptonite,
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And the wise and foolish virgins giggle with their bodies glowing
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bright.
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Through a door a harvest feast is lit by candlelight;
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It's the bottom of a staircase that spirals out of sight.
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The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
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"We've got to get in to get out
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We've got to get in to get out
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We've got to get in to get out."
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The porcelain mannikin with shattered skin fears attack.
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The eager pack lift up their pitchers - they carry all they lack.
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The liquid has congealed, which has seeped out through the crack,
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And the tickler takes his stickleback.
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The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
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"We've got to get in to get out
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We've got to get in to get out
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We've got to get in to get out."
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-----------------
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Carpet Crawlers
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Genesis |