Even in the ballasting of the necessary and its surface, one prevents human nature to look to the sky. Flying was a dream, and hope. It became an obligation. And more resources are grandiose and impressive machines, the more one sees far. The flight is a vision, even at night. The purrs, screams or groans can not stop the process. The earth does that misfortune we are planted. It must be detached, cut the umbilical cord of a bitter dust. So you hurt, we add, we mortify in a climb to the heights. A simple detachment that makes us more alive. A simple view of the mind.
(Deftones - Diamond Eyes - Reprise)
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