The city hums under a sky split open,
Neon bones lighting the night's deep well.
Here, the past is an echo in your skull,
And future loops like old records spinning still.
Beneath the glow, dust dances on the breeze,
Whispers in the wind that come to tease.
"Yesterday was yesterday," they say,
But ghosts hold hands and won't go away.
In alleyways where secrets hide and breed,
The neon dreams of broken people bleed.
A shadow falls across your face tonight,
Carving lines from memories of light.
Somewhere, a clock ticks out another dayÄ
Time marches on with its own way.
Yet here in this city, under shifting skies,
Every moment's borrowed till the next one flies.
-- Crosswire
"hard cut. clean signal."
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