Phosphene II
The rain had quit and turned to mist
By half past ten
And the working men
Filled the streets
The porters smoked and traded jokes
While the cabbies stopped
By the noodle shop
Changing shifts
Twilight sky
The glimmer of a broken TV-screen
Bloodshot eyes
Watching figures drift from scene to scene
Some obscene
Yet pristine
Unforeseen
Just like a dream
A slipstream
Phosphene
Midnight came and midnight went
Without a chime
And the march of time
Had no end
So words and thoughts and actions were
Facsimiles
An eternity
On repeat
Twilight sky
The glimmer of a broken TV-screen
Bloodshot eyes
Watching figures drift from scene to scene
Some obscene
Yet pristine
Unforeseen
Just like a dream
A slipstream
Phosphene
The heat, it clung to windows
Like sickness to a beast
As the suffocating masses
Were dreaming of release
There's no direction left to go
Cried the beggar in his sleep
But no one was listening
For wisdom when it was cheap
Past the sky
Heaven's just another broken screen
Loaded die
Fate supplies a punchline to the scene
Some obscene
Yet pristine
And everything
Is like a dream
A slipstream
Phosphene
By half past ten
And the working men
Filled the streets
The porters smoked and traded jokes
While the cabbies stopped
By the noodle shop
Changing shifts
Twilight sky
The glimmer of a broken TV-screen
Bloodshot eyes
Watching figures drift from scene to scene
Some obscene
Yet pristine
Unforeseen
Just like a dream
A slipstream
Phosphene
Midnight came and midnight went
Without a chime
And the march of time
Had no end
So words and thoughts and actions were
Facsimiles
An eternity
On repeat
Twilight sky
The glimmer of a broken TV-screen
Bloodshot eyes
Watching figures drift from scene to scene
Some obscene
Yet pristine
Unforeseen
Just like a dream
A slipstream
Phosphene
The heat, it clung to windows
Like sickness to a beast
As the suffocating masses
Were dreaming of release
There's no direction left to go
Cried the beggar in his sleep
But no one was listening
For wisdom when it was cheap
Past the sky
Heaven's just another broken screen
Loaded die
Fate supplies a punchline to the scene
Some obscene
Yet pristine
And everything
Is like a dream
A slipstream
Phosphene
Credits
Writer(s): Marcus Rinehart
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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