Odes to Joy

Hypnerotomachia Poliphili (Canonical) · Track 490 · middle

Seven Mushrooms in Cuernavaca (Timothy Leary)

Timothy Leary

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
You traced the synapse like a prophet reads the sacred text,
those neural pathways firing as your consciousness expanded next.
Your hippocampus singing, consolidating every ache and dream—
long-term potentiation blooming in the laboratory's spectral gleam.
You saw the human brain as playground, mirror neurons dancing wide,
axonal branching outward where the phantom self resides.
Your cortical remapping woke the sleeping cells to bloom,
theta waves like incense filling every sacred room.

[Chorus]
You opened up the doors—
the chambers in the mind—
and showed us what was locked before,
the passages we'd find.
You opened up the doors,
with laughter, light, and song,
and all your wild synaptic fires
made us feel less alone.

[Verse 2]
Your predictive coding rewrote how the brain perceives its own terrain,
neurogenesis rising like a resurrection through the champagne.
You danced with interoception—body knowing what it knows—
proprioception's wisdom blooming as your consciousness grows.
The myelination of your vision spread like gospel through the age,
your words became the ritual, the ceremony, and the stage.
Each lecture sparked the branching of a thousand eager minds,
your joyful propulsive energy left caution far behind.

[Chorus]
You opened up the doors—
the chambers in the mind—
and showed us what was locked before,
the passages we'd find.
You opened up the doors,
with laughter, light, and song,
and all your wild synaptic fires
made us feel less alone.

[Bridge]
Syn-textured visions, phantom light,
ata kak rhythmic through the night—
your anthemic voice, that idlewild call:
neurochemistry dissolving every wall.

[Chorus]
You opened up the doors—
the chambers in the mind—
and showed us what was locked before,
the passages we'd find.
You opened up the doors,
with laughter, light, and song,
and all your wild synaptic fires
made us feel less alone.

[Outro]
Those doors stay open in us still, you grinning sage,
the synapses you woke keep firing on this stage.

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**Word count: 278 words** ✓
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