First Gong Vol. 8: Thrust FIRST GONG 8 THRUST | Page 194

Tell the night soil-man
He stinks of your money
Convince the honey bee
That the golden-black drop
Isn't just sweet shit
It’s all a matter of the consciousness
Self-deceit is a shallow dream
Deep dreams are reserved for gods
Idle men are those without dreams
Getting by, faking their consciousness
This is an ode to the heroes of faith
Never losing consciousness
Even in unconsciousness
Those who rise above mortal dreams
Sailing above obstacles into godly reality
Only when faced by challenging concussion,
do we really become conscious
Awakened to life's reality
Yet reality is just a dream
And its interpretation is a matter of our consciousness
Olamide Santos
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