Momentum runs across your eyes
The red light keep the tears as you cry
Like a barbarian while everyone seeks religion
I don’t even know how to make a decision
Am I losing my vision?

From the backstage of my mind
Music races
Lights flash
Cars crash
The social decay of tonight’s day
As the poor man withers away
The morn holds the only peace
The night before the night we cried
That’s where it holds the dark

When I cry for you, it’s because I want to relive a memory
A memory that has been implanted since the day I met you
Kissed you
Felt you.

The voices of power come from above
Not as an angel
Or a dove
But as a catalyst of the modern day
Playing a proud euphemism of inclusivity
The ringing pours into the coffee
A work place full of brutality
The tax man walks in and orders
It counts up to the minimum wage
Workers that are used to the disarray
As he walks away not with a coffee
But with a note

“No matter what you say, do, intervene or pray… you’re mine”

Saturday night is the sound
but the one we remember
with the instrumental choir
running through our ears
Dakota rings
because your eyes
Are breathing
The sky is slate
The floor is coal
When we experience history
It’s not colour,
But Sound
I just want to be free
the modernity brutality
the duality of man
drowning in the pool of deceit
did you keep the receipt?