High Point, Rt. 218. I want to win the lottery. Mills and mills.

So, clear your mind and rise the stars.
Lift me high into this journey.
Search for meaning in your breathing.
Wake in the morning, to a deep sleep.
Walking contradict. Hate to love, love to hate.
Drink in the water poured from the hands of heaven.
Close your eyes, count to ten.
Jump from a height, into the clouds.
Speak to me, breathe, run.
Swim in the tide, drown in your sorrow, rejoice in the
lightning strike, in the snowstorm.
Melt into your fingertips, like gold.
Swallow your pride...come to your senses...imagine
your reality...dream your existance.
Be perfectly flawed, wonderfully normal, fascinatingly
ordinary.
Drop.
Stand.
may your dreams, be turned into thousands of gems,
scatterd over the valley below...sing.
Crazy crazy diamond.