Goldfish

The beat is deep, philosophical and heavy in bass. The old man caught a fish, but did not beg, I decided to identify my desires myself. I made three wishes, but I didn't let go, He keeps it in his pocket— it's calmer than he used to be. The old woman with the trough is all dust, He builds worlds, he forgot about the past. From my head — fire and planets, Thought creates portraits of galaxies. A fish in your hand is not power, It's our fear that keeps us from falling. We're holding on tight to what's inside., Although you are already creators, look at it. He became fish-like, almost a deity., Cities are high up — under water and with fire. A butterfly nearby is the lightness of being, But the old man keeps thinking: "What else am I?" He's omnipotent, but he can't leave., The thread is the one that keeps you on the way. A fish is an illusion, a chain and a deception, And a will is like air, without any countries. Each of us is this old man by the water, We're following our own footprints. But if you unclench — and let go of fear, You can create your own world in front of your eyes. The question is not about the fish... the question is, are you ready?