spiritual mexico

This is the shape of my dream
Bloody and cold
This moment of time fragmented
Fermented and old
But still in the prime of life
Electric circuit shaped
Cut and fresh
Like tron thru the light in manhattan
Computer age dazzled
Hard wind already blowin
Hard rain already coming
This is the shape of my dream
Tattoo new york
City kid poor
Richer than before
Artist on the loose
On the verge of the real letting go
On the verge of spiritual mexico