It's a man like other, the son of his mom. Messager of our heads or maybe he's just your brother?! Every one, deep inside, has a sip, has a sip, of that pure water... Another way of being, something so refreshing... could be a vegetable or a feeling. Feathers and flowers of fire and snow... Given by the Promised Land, made of wood and of sand... As exciting as diving... True as petals are crying for haze... It will suddenly seem sweeter.