These plastic sounds that mean nothing
Nerve cells unmeshed
Stoic static, there's no story telling
Velvet monotones going nowhere permanent
Palms on headphones and eyes on the floor
A fetish for the mechanic
We writhe to the obscure.
And it's no coincidence, this place we're at
Cliff hanging by a nail
With our heads thrown back.
Regret left for the cock eyed.