Meditations in Space
de Absurdist Psychonaut
The only feeling-Hate
Pain-the only sense
The only word-Sorrow
Black-the only color
Gloom and Bate, obfuscation
All this I give you now
I'm your Pain Dealer
Only madness in your head
Don't you want to check sharpness of
Your razor blade
Your hands are covered with scars
And cigarettes burns
Sometimes you feel
That you want to make this world better
And get rid it of from yourself
I know some secrets
They will make you feel fine
But I won't tell you them
Because I'm your Pain Dealer
Your soul is sick
Your body's weak
I'm not your killer
I'm your Pain Dealer
My voice in your head
It makes you suffer
No I'm not your killer
I'm your pain dealer
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Dimensional Distortions
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Temporal Acid Trip
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Surreal Horizons
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Psyche’s Playground
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Warped Realities
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A Myths Requiem
Dreams of Sisyphus
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The Cosmic Question
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Orbiting Serenity
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Universal Contemplation
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Existence Beyond Gravity
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Chilling in the Cosmos
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Cosmos Within
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Between Earth and Eternity
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Philosopher's Cosmos
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Why Do We Exist?
Who Am I in the Stars?
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Chasing the Infinite
Dreams of Sisyphus
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Where Do We Belong?
Who Am I in the Stars?
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Between Reality and Reflection
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Rising Beyond Fate
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Stellar Chill
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