Rael regains consciousness in some musky half-light. He is warmly wrapped in some sort of cocoon. The only sound he can hear is dripping water which appears to be the source of a pale flickering light. He guesses he must be in some sort of cave -- or kooky tomb, or catacomb, or eggshell waiting to drop from the bone of the womb.
Peter Gabriel: "And I wake up in a little while, laid down underground."
Wrapped up in some powdered wool -- 
I guess I'm losing touch.
Don't tell me I'm dying, 'cos I ain't changed that much.
The only sound is water drops, I wonder where the hell I am, Some kind of jam?
Cuckoo Cocoon have I come to, too soon for you?
Whatever it is, he feels serene, very clean, and content as a well kept dummy with hot water in his tummy, so why worry what it means?
There's nothing I can recognise; this is nowhere that I've known.
With no sign of life at all, I guess that I'm alone,
And I feel so secure that I know this can't be real but I feel good.
Cuckoo cocoon have I come to, too soon for you?
I wonder if I'm a prisoner locked up in some Brooklyn jail
[Is he actually in a straightjacket "locked in some Brooklyn jail?"]
or some sort of Jonah shut up inside the whale. No --
I'm still Rael and I'm stuck in some kind of cave, what could've saved me?
Cuckoo cocoon have I come to, too soon for you?
Resigning himself to the unknown he drifts off into sleep.



It shows no or at best only the most minuscule traces of the style that would make them well-known later, and therefore frequently meets with a refusal and lack of affection. Justly so?

