Strange how the scale forms

in tiny patterns

on my antenna

and the Five O'Clock Show, hello hello...

Brooklyn is crawling with famous people

I turn my vehicle beneath the river, West from South



Through the airwaves -

people never read the airwaves

do we only feed the airwaves

or stamp them out of street level?

Airwaves - the dampness of the wind

the airwaves - the tension of the skin

the airwaves I really should have seen through.



Electric fences line our new freeway

here in the half-light, the motorhomes leave

knee-deep in water under a pylon

how slow my heartbeat, how thin the air I'm breathing in



Control has enabled the abandoned wires again

but the copper cables all rust in the acid rain

that flood the subway

with elements of our corrosian

cabled in to me...

Be in my broadcast when this is over

give me your shoulder, I need a place

to wait for morning.

No it was nothing - some car backfiring -

pleased don't ask questions



I itch all over

let me sleep