I mean the sounds in the night
Prancing need not be ladylike
Heavy fanning and cold days coming
This is what I remember
Racing across a casino floor with every care in every world
You count what you’ll count and I’ll stand by
This whistle, that siren, that four on that floor
Where’ve you gone? Where’re you now?
How will we get our mouth around it? When will we put all the good back in?
This is about dirt and dust
This is about trajectories and everything after
This is a myth and this is the telling of a myth
When becoming is done, this is what we are
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