So nauseous pines,
This noxious abyss,
I feed from the milk,
of ultra violet,
Yet I'm lost with you,
My floating twin,
You're the anchor to the drain,
but I am the key,
To nothing.
The endless, halcyon days of "Nauseous pines" summer of love are over, the travellers and minstrels, dreamers and drug dealers have gone. It is now 198X, you wake up in a very bad situation. You were the "Sisters of the amniotic lens" and now it's time to face what you did to the minds of the naive all those years ago.