Rael regains consciousness in some musky half-light. he is warmly wrapped in some sort of cocoon. the only sound he can hear is dripping water which appears to be the source of a pale flickering
T. he guesses he must be in some sort of cave – or kooky tomb, or catacomb, or eggshell waiting to drop from the bone of the womb.
Wrapped up in some powdered wool – i guess i’m losing touch.
Don’t tell me this is dying, ‘cos i ain’t changed that much.
The only sound is water drops, i wonder where the hell i am,
Some kind of jam?
Cuckoo cocoon have i come to, too soon for you?
There’s nothing i can recognise; this is nowhere that i’ve known.
With no sign of life at all, i guess that i’m alone,
And i feel so secure that i know this can’t be real
But i feel good.
Cuckoo cocoon have i come to, too soon for you?
I wonder if i’m a prisoner locked in some brooklyn jail
– or some sort of jonah shut up inside the whale.
No – i’m still rael and i’m stuck in some kind of cave.
What could’ve saved me?
Cuckoo cocoon have i come to, too soon for you?
Resigning himself to the unknown he drifts off into sleep.
