Gold bitter drink,
spinning like straw,
Bubbles they float.

I, in myself,
once again find,
I’m laughing, ha.

Where else found,
That true meaning,
But in states,
Where all’s less.

More pain to less,
Less pain to none,
None to high life,
High life to mind,
Mind to low strife.

Only, only
I was a cat,
I’d find myself,
Not in a drink,
But in action,
So clandestine,
In a fine box,
Spraying across,
Dust and crystal,
Gold bitter drink.