Oh holy holy tunnel view, you light of hope and desperation,
In the land where minutes melt 
and clocks bleed contemplation.
Saturday morn, in the afterhour's wake, 
where reality takes a vacation,
Minds frolic in a nebulous dance, 
in chemical whites jubilation.
Fluffy bunnies sing the blues, 
beneath the strobe's libation,
As rainbows spiral from the floor, 
in a twist of pigmentation.

Psychedelic daisies bloom, 
in mute conversation,
Under a sun of disco balls, 
beaming syncopation.

Macroscopic whispers 
speak in vinyl modulation,
As the aurora borealis hums
 in caffeinated dedication.

A phosphorescent platypus 
waltzes across the constellation,
In the drowsy dream of a phreaky
Saturday morning's imagination.
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