flying through a dark prismatic tunnel on a carousel,
the earth is turning and you know it very well,
your mind is reeling like ten helicopters
wheeling and you´re gonna hit the ceiling

like a mallet on a bell,

hey, blenderhead,
they´re starting to ask questions,
your transgressions are a danger flashing sign,
challenge conventions and radiate your splendor
and feel those flywheels churn on your blenderhead

tally up the gleaming ventured in a wishing well,
each shining trinket has a story it can tell,
your moments pining like those tales all
intertwining can become the rusted lining of a deep neglected shell,

hey, blenderhead,
you ask so many questions,
your confusion´s a life-affirming sign,

break from tradition and carry on with valor
and feel those flywheels churn your blenderhead