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Am I standing on my feet

Or does the ground move?

The horizon looks like a tunnel mouth

I want to reach it, creeping, slow…

Pictures of known faces all around

I loose the grip on foreign floors

Flickering shadows are blinking at me

I'm sliding through a undred doors

I feel my way on thorny rails

the scratches guide me home

wherever I will find it

It's not where I come from

the veil of lead is soaring

the hints of the seer confuse me

creeping, shiftless roaming

deranged suggestions fee

Every view looks up

The knobby stair winds higher

I don't know where I am

The palmist seems to be a liar