A gross dilution of fantasy The calm of self imposed chaos Dreaming of down between your head and the stone A distance between the duel realities Disregarding possibility in order to retain a sense of community They all became just pleasant dilution’s Projected on a starry screen For the viewer to enjoy For the voyeur to expand An auditory adventure of orifice adventure As when my age reached eight And I dug the hole in the hill behind my house Just to bury adventure people in And loose them in the dark I miss that hill of dirt I don’t have any action figures any longer.