INCA'S ROBOTS

Beckoned..

phonetic translation of "Echoes" by Pink Floyd


Sonar red, the after moss sang, spokenless baton a share
Sand sleeps bequeathed the scrolling slaves in after-synths of stories saved
The beckoned love, a crisp abide
Sun silt below the loss of hands
Sand never brings its screen and subtle sheen
Sand spoken flowed, must of the land
Sand spoken blows, a stare floor spy
Luck come, bring blue sand come bring spies
Sand far to wind, for words, a flight

Danger crass, been in the beat
Die dance blue depth rate fancy heat
Sand, why can two sand, but fly three fizz we?
Sand, to fly, make through why, the land
Sand plead, to blue, the hands
Sand, tell see thunder grand, the test of man
Sand, open falls, thus blue groove song
Sand, spoken courses crown demise
Sand, so oblique
Sand blows, sun flies
Sand opens spies, the sound of one

Sound jest, severed way to call
A dawn, by shaking ties
Spin sight in sand, spin light ring free blue eyes
Sand strewn below, a pin the fall
Sun screaming spins on one flight spring
A killing sight, alas, adored of scorning
Sand, show one, see we full of nines
Sand spoken, shakes we, throws our spines
Know, below the cinders’ tide,
Sand falls a blue in moss, but why.