When the earth becomes without form and void the muse moves effortlessly through the thick smog of mechanized mishap. Though the malady floods the face of the deep, she swims through polluted streams, separating the survivors from the sickened. The Mock sun, phantom of the sacred Star, shines ̶ and she knows her work is approaching its end.

In other words, we are an intricately woven web of fluidly eclectic guitar experimentation and spacey vocal harmonies forming the psychedelic soundtrack to a lucid dream.