The turtle, the turtle has risen! The mushrooms, the mushrooms have fallen! The valley, the valley has seen another doom. And there were clouds, and the face of panpsychism imprinted on their image. And there were hills, and the face of panpsychism imprinted on their image. And there blocks, and the face of panpsychism imprinted on their image.
The mushrooms cried no more.
The mushrooms have fallen.
The mushrooms, defeated.
The silence, no more.
The picture, it rose as a castle to blind! The picture it grew to enslave mushroomkind! The turtle! The turtle! The turtle doth rule world and mind! The castle, as warning, spawns more turtlekind! What anguish, what sorrow, the mushrooms must feel!
Yet the mushrooms have fallen, so does it appear,
the mushrooms no longer feel anguish nor pain,
the mushrooms have fallen, no longer for them
is there a loss, neither a gain.
The mushrooms have fallen... They are no more. Their identity – stolen. Their minds enslaved. Their will a lie. The mushrooms no longer are mushrooms to be. Goomba! Goomba! Now do you see? No longer a mushroom, the kingdom is dead. The Goombas, inherit the valley. The mushrooms have fallen.
The pipes are a forest, a forest of hope. Portals to kingdoms mushrooms' minds cannot cope. Think in portals! The mushrooms can not. Their wisdom of portals long has been forgot. But one of them rises, a Goomba no more! One of them rises, to open the door! The door to a world, a path to a God. To a master of pipes, of water and rod. The mushroom a frog, amphibious kind. The world of the hero is in his mind. "To the pipes", one imperative one goal he doth see. He strives for the mushrooms, to set them free! "To the pipes" "To the pipes", an otherworldly story, to adventures of freedom, death and yet glory.
A legend must rise.
The mushrooms have fallen.
The turtle doth rule.
The pipes – they are calling!