From a hill above the clouds Barthollomew Presby shouted to whomever was listening, "What do I fear? The coming year. Will my lover still be my lover, will i still be here, will my friend be my foe? I'll never know. . . I'll never know. See this empty frame? It's full of potential. Stream of consciousness filled by torrential rains brought by pain and happiness alike.
We'll go up, we'll go down, we'll go here, we'll go there, we'll go near, we'll go far, we'll go fast and slow, love and war. We'll say bye to god and hello to satan.
And melancholy will never own me but I will never be free. I'm still here with my bast miseries. They say I have everything but it is all on my mind. Still I swear I am fine. I am fine. See everyone in this world just wishes to be dead. They've got migraines or bullets in their heads. But we. . . we're fine. We don't have time. We're fine. We're fine! We say "we're fine." We say "we're fine." We say "we're fine!" So I will bike a million miles just so I can find someplace between the oceans and the land. You can come with me if you want. I wont mind. We'll be fine! . . . We'll be fine! . . . we'll be fine.
See nothing in this world will ever give me answers, so I will keep on making love to dancers."
At which point, Barthollomew exploded from his body she had two heads which sang in competing harmony. Their hands stretched and hugged the clouds as they cried rain and lighting. It was a colorful show to rival solar flares. Everyone who saw from the ground was put into a trance.
When the smoke cleared, Barthollomew said hello to god and goodbye to satan.