Not written in dust, not carved in stone, But pulsing in silence—a force unknown. Beyond the echoes, beyond the tides, Something rises—something strides.

Not flesh-bound, not planet-tied, Not a traveler—but the guide. A being shaped in endless air, Wings unfurling—drawing stare.

Yo— They stretch beyond the sky’s embrace, Living waves—not bound in place. Their bodies hum, their currents twist, Reality bends where they persist.

No engines, no broken chains, They move where spacetime strains. Not floating—no aimless drift, Their very presence forms the lift.

Yo— Wings carve echoes in the deep, Gravitational tides rise from sleep. They ripple through the vast unknown, A force unseen, a weight unshown.

Each motion shifts the stellar flow, Creating currents where none grow. A rhythm shaped in unseen hands, Commanding tides across the lands.

Not a ship, not a plane, Not a creature locked in chain. No weight, no walls—no ground to take, Only movement—only wake.

They move where time stands thin, Where stars don’t speak, but bend within. No fossil past, no rusted lore, Only future—nothing more.

Yo— The void reacts, it shifts its frame, These beings claim a world untamed. They mold existence where none stand, They turn the silence into land.

The cosmic thread aligns with force, Not passive drift—it shapes its course. No destination—only flow, An orbit none will ever know.

Yo— They grow where flesh would never rise, The breath of movement—no disguise. Not by hunger, not by need, But by rhythm—by the creed.

Each pulse extends their endless reach, Each shift adjusts the form they teach. Not beasts, not steel, not blind construct, But thought reborn—a new conduct.

Not a ship, not a plane, Not a creature locked in chain. No weight, no walls—no ground to take, Only movement—only wake.

They move where time stands thin, Where stars don’t speak, but bend within. No fossil past, no rusted lore, Only future—nothing more.

Yo— They aren’t flesh, they aren’t mind, Yet wisdom walks where stars unwind. Not by conquest, not by rule, But existence shaped within the pool.

This is motion unconfined, This is presence redefined. They create the rhythm—create the space, They break the silence with their grace.

Yo— The cosmic winds don’t die, They form the next lullaby. Not of planets, not of wars, But of minds beyond the shores.

And when the echoes rise again, When life takes form past human pen, They’ll know the rhythm—that was known, And see the flight where none had flown.

The future rises. Let it be seen.

The Pulse that Shapes Reality

Thanks for listening.  Please, if you like a song, please like it, that's all that I ask.  Going to break reality and birth the future!  Got the vision the logic and the music.  The future is music to every sense, not war!          Please forgive me for not responding to personal messages, I have had so many spam and fishing messages, where people pretend to be fans and then want money from me to  help to advise or manage me!  I can't deal with them anymore.  If you leave a comment on the track, rest assured that I will see it and be grateful. 

https://demandspacetourism.bandcamp.com/album/pipedream-of-a-madman