..Ladies and gentlemen: I have raised three arches, and with clumsy hand I have placed in them the Muse, the Angel and the Duende. The Muse keeps silent; she may wear the tunic of little folds, or great cow-eyes gazing towards Pompeii, or the monstrous, four-featured nose with which her great painter, Picasso, has painted her. The Angel may be stirring the hair of Antonello da Messina, the tunic of Lippi, and the violin of Masolino or Rousseau.

But the Duende - where is the Duende ? Through the empty arch enters a mental air blowing insistently over the heads of the dead, seeking new landscapes and unfamiliar accents; an air bearing the odor of child's spittle, crushed grass, and the veil of Medusa announcing the unending baptism of all newly-created things..

....life is a waterfall
we drink from the river
then we turn around and put up our walls
swimming through the void
we hear the word
we lose ourselves
but we find it all...
cause we are the ones that want to play
always want to go
but you never want to stay
and we are the ones that want to choose
always want to play
but you never want to lose
aerials, in the sky
when you lose small mind
you free your life
aerials, so up high
when you free your eyes eternal prize
aerials, in the sky
when you lose small mind
you free your life
aerials, so up high
when you free your eyes eternal prize

Here in the garden of the arcane delights,
Dark shadows overwhelm us and we become blind.
Blind to the needs of those who would be free
From the grip of fear and the prisons of the mind.Amidst the throes of perplexity
Phobia moves amongst us, in her hand is held the seed.
Extermination angel stood beside the road
In violent retribution for the seeds we have sown.

DIED for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.

He questioned softly why I failed?
'For beauty,' I replied.'And I for truth, the two are one;'
'We brethren are,' he said.

And so, as kinsmen met a night,
We talked between the rooms,
Until the moss had reached our lips,
And covered up our names