Such distance to the tips of the fingers, the ganglion loom jerks inside; the body grows steadily stranger but the spirit won't be denied. That sharp halogene flash jars the eyeball, the limbs pump in overdrive; the body grows seemingly weaker but the spirit won't be denied. Yeah, the ash-mark stands out on the forehead as the vacuum sneaks up on the eyes; the body becomes a constant traitor but the spirit won't be denied. And they call that living a normal live, but normality's not standardised. Though the body gets ever more root-bound the spirit won't be denied Yes, the spirit survives.