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Theatre Of Tragedy » Episode |
Moving sideways through the sold photo Slow figures flashing on tiptoe Crashing cars on a blue tableau Goes to show it wasn't everywhere No one steering, just an auto-move Round and round the streetlights in the groove Flying windscreens, dropping down below Aisles of bricks, crumbling with the smoke Here we go Dissolving turnpikes in a placid light Intersections similarly white I never found the concrete slab I must have left it on the showroom tab Escalators moving side to side Round and round the footprints on the slide From a picture, the city turned and spoke There she was, the woman in the smoke Here we go I think you suit me I'll make you happy You specify me You can't deny me Must have left my eyes on a moving train Tangled phone lines told me to revoke Turgid reasons, everything's mundane There she was, the woman in the smoke Here we go I guess you suit me Do you extend me? You maximise me You can't deny me I think you suit me I'll make you happy .
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