Even though it really didn’t do what it was supposed to do, what it said it would do I’d still pick up this pink nebulous; this pulsating mass like a promise, shapeless, odorless, tastless all the ingredients very important to the white rabbit which I am cooking at the moment.

I’d prefer it to all the others on this colorless palette, not only because it's clearly the best one or that it is indifferent to its surrounding but because it is the quietest one in the meadow.

I know that word, it's one of my favorite words in all the worlds. What is it doing here in the wrong place at the right time like that?

It's a word so heavy, what has more weight? Its promise or its dream?

Wait , she is not pink anymore in this song, that’s saddening but not disheartening. There is a difference, you see. Do you ?

Well, at least she's real when she doesn’t have to be.