Doctors In Mexico - A testo lyric

TESTO

When she set foot in yet another puddle,
she couldn’t help but to fall in it once again.
While mud was curling, piling up beneath her bare feet’s toes
with that familiar tickling, a buzz climbed her spine.

Up towards the hypothalamus, eyes closing:
letting all articulations shatter under their own weight,
filling with a deafening void (concave Hertz) her worn eardrums.
They acknowledge the overdose.

While the darkest rooms of the royal palace burst open
-malicious locks of doors always half-closed have unlocked again-
and opaque, synthetic lights race to reach every dusty corner of the soul,
the speed between synapsis increases.

Everything that’s shaped crumbles,
displaying the simply complex nature of the being.
If every answer is subatomic and global, why is it so easy not to look?

When she opened her eyes behind the dark curtains of the mind
she could still see the beautiful Lothlorièn before her.