Amidst the Irish country side, a drunken chap encounters wee folk, but not the sort he was expecting. Lyrics just a recycled tale from the days of old when many a drunk irishman looked for his pot of gold gallavanting wassling through…

When magic and technology cross paths, all heck will break loose. Lyrics I can't help believing that this course she can't stop weaving a part of her deceiving herself that this is right She focuses fate her intentions transferred…

The Chinese believe if you perform a certain choreographed routine while aboard an elevator, the elevator will open a door to 'somewhere else'. [Addendum : It's heavily formatted, but I want to point out I did use Chris Carignan's DjentBot…

The CB Radio in the corner echoes with an idle static, but something sounds peculiar - it's no noise you've ever heard before. There's something intelligent about it, like it's peering out of the speaker and looking right at you.

I'm not a trick of the shadows. You're the trick of light.

What kind of twisted infinity loop have you managed to get yourself stuck in? Time seems to weave in and out like some kind of Gordian knot.

The waking dream ends before it began. Trailing off to quantum uncertainty.

Or is this some sort of dream? "Sleep come soon, and white away the room." Perhaps this is a dream you shouldn't be having. Some doors are best left unopened.

Are you hallucinating again?