I heard your name the other day. It's been a long, long time. Ancient history, some would say. Another state of mind.
You smell of memory, felt-tip electric child.
She digs a plastic pill, she plays the weatherman.
She screams for leisure kills, more than it saves your man.
She painted filigrees, she was the acid queen.
She claims society is just a fever dream.
Now you live in the trees and salty seas.
Tripping out in the blue skies.
You shut the door on everything.
Too busy getting high.
And me, just another dream theory.
Lost inside your eyes.
She's not in your history books.
Lost her mind and kept her loose.
Down the unit radar screen.
She's lit up like gasoline.
Been through a million kicks.
Looking for one that sticks.
No one knowing that I might not see her again.
Top hat and tails fold thrills.
Red lips and famous hands.
Sat long and dancing still.
In tiny dancer land.
We kissed.
Time slipped.
Hard-edged.
Tight-lipped.
See you.
Sometime.
Ask me if I can.
Can.
Miscommunication.
Can.
Querét.
Can you hear it?
Can you hear her?


Yeah.
She's interested.

She's windowed.
But she has to.


Confidently behind a mirror.
Half of it's black.

Wh Entertainer.


Nothing.
Takes a While.
Hold, believe.

We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.