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Dolby Thomas Golden Age Wireless Airwaves Strange how the scale forms in tiny patterns on my antenna and the Five O'Clock Show, hello hello... Brooklyn is crawling with famous people I turn my vehicle beneath the river, West from South Through the airwaves - people never read the airwaves do we only feed the airwaves or stamp them out of street level? Airwaves - the dampness of the wind the airwaves - the tension of the skin the airwaves I really should have seen through. Electric fences line our new freeway here in the half-light, the motorhomes leave knee-deep in water under a pylon how slow my heartbeat, how thin the air I'm breathing in Control has enabled the abandoned wires again but the copper cables all rust in the acid rain that flood the subway with elements of our corrosian cabled in to me... Be in my broadcast when this is over give me your shoulder, I need a place to wait for morning. No it was nothing - some car backfiring - pleased don't ask questions I itch all over let me sleep. |
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