That ever-present grinding sound.
Those shifting stones beneath your feet.
Some titanic ruction underground,
As though the mountains mean to rise.
That message slipped beneath your door,
That hand that looked so much like yours:
‘There are only two ways out.
There’s the button or the ledge.
Miles up or miles down,
Face the core or scrape the sky.
Remember what the bastard said:
If you ain’t mad you must be dead.’
Just like you have been,
Freezing from the inside.
Maybe it’s time, time.
A friend of mine put me in touch with this dude a million years ago and he was the friendliest, most helpful guy in the world. And this EP is a jam. Leonardo's Robot
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