I watch the moon sneak into sheets of cloud
And here on a metal plate is a mad crowd
Lighting torches for a future century
Yet, we all fly the flag of a distant country.

My head is a theatre
with all characters played out,
we measure words in metres
watch images run about.
forlorn threads and circuses of wine
swords sheated, comedies of lust

My head is a theatre
with all characters played out,
we measure words in metres
watch images run about.
forlorn threads and circuses of wine
swords sheated, comedies of lust