"West is a Holy Color"

Mysterious smoker in the snow
Sighed and said it’s done
I’ve finally counted all the straws
Of luck below the sky
And west is a holy color
Of this you’ll have no doubt
Once you point your heart towards
Its radiant cloak of life

West is blossom transmission
West cites angelic sources
West is pulse put on the air through
Aliens in the fresh snowflakes 

What I wanted to say in the first place
Where I wanted to be born
Did it matter, who was asking what wombs when
Why and where this body here was thrown
But west is a holy color
This knowledge has its charm
Once in the east you’ll feel the power
Dictatorship ignites

But that was in the 50s, a century ago
While we must write and live anew
In freshly fallen snow
He’s not the only smoker born among the poor
Who’ll once rise into power
No setting sun can blow

West is a holy color
Driving through the waste
West is the sweetest poison
Drink up while it’s still in your glass