Melting into slo-mo
An inevitable slowing
Weak in the knees and in the fists
All signs waiting patiently for you to spot them pointing
And your e.s.p is on the fritz
Christen this city with the sound you grew up wanting
Jangle trauma in the light
Bus stop junkies looking pretty as the morning
Jungle hot after a rainy night
And by dawn we're floating, flying
And by dawn we're neurons, firing
And by dawn we're floating, flying
And by dawn we're neurons, firing

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