"Prediction from reflection" genre: Goth Rock
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	This was originally called "acid" The Poem " Prediction from reflection" was wriiten specifically for the music.
	CD: Tribute to a band member ( not yet available)   Label: Threshold.co.nz Credits: Jack B Nimble
	Story Behind the Song This song was recorded in the "quiet room" at Schizo HQ. The band had no idea of the song and were unsure. Their introduction and warm up (all of 30 seconds) is included with this track. keeping the tape rolling Gattling gun Craig Ryan (always keen) launches into "acid." Jack delivers his poem to the haunting Synth like quality of Skin Lizzie`s wailing. This is early Schizo Phrenia. Very rare, submitted here in the memory of Craig Ryan, Schizo Phrenia`s first drummer. We miss you man. Lyrics My enemies are all around me. My red and black soul says, I am strong! Don`t tell me to be compassionate. What do you robots know of the dreams, when you have played your tricks of wizardry to the point of no return. I don`t appreciate the end for me, from you, so I will fly by night to haunt your days. My face is ghostly. Your force is white emptyness, on with my headdress. I suck on the divine leaf and bring nightmares burning into your mind. Batterys attack, as lasers beam. Time for your big moment, my life force will read the evidence that I believe is genuine. So, my bloodlust for benedictine becomes burried into my black and empty smile. My commandos of straw and steel burn so red that the deception involved shakes you not, yet you are moving. The bear cries out! With his painful claw the eagle submits to the pressure of the movement. Sweet-Victory. The anger is gone. The bear takes a long last look and now smells his reward. Swagger and swear. His cunning knowledge leads him to a choice he plays over like true lineage. And the atomic particles disintergrate into the distance. Man appears, he appears alone! The coat of excitment is now tempered and gone. His anger turning into a hieght, above that of the eagle. His pedigree knows danger is there. Destruction is now repeated as black anger comes back. His life he knows is to man a threat. Taller now than any tree, he attacks, chases and rips red flesh apart. More wolves of antagonism he now see`s. Gone are his choices. Black back to the sun. Panic is his, as the sun is eclipsed. And quiet, deep retreat. He works and thinks of the days blood he has spilled. Of the berry of the vine and no comfort it bares. The touch of his line he will understand to preserve his right again. Jack.

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