from Roadside Traction
The exits are just numbers and nobody turning into signs.
My vision a flurry of how to war and songs to call or cast this out—
It's just a strange sentence we agree upon.
The story as it accumulates is one neither one, not any one of us
not any of us knows how to end
My vision a flurry of how to war and songs to call or cast this out—
It's just a strange sentence we agree upon.
The story as it accumulates is one neither one, not any one of us
not any of us knows how to end