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We took a sideways glance and fell into the bottom of the season |
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We saw horizons and different paths away from here |
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We touched the wall of airplane avenue |
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We felt a pleasant grey rain |
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Hiding in the machines of the cities |
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Listening to bells and hardened beaches untouched |
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We took a sideways glance and fell into the bottom of the season |
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We curved around the statues |
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We saw horizons and different maps away from here |
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Paranormal echoes from unexplained evidence maps |
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And misty pointed Moscow telephones |
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Supplied by design, five hundred lovely contact microphones |
