| Gaia sips the drink of artificial red
|
| Carefully served by a fluorescent sky
|
| Gaia sips the drink of artificial red
|
| She swallows the light
|
| Only to throw up shadows minutes later
|
| On a broken public toilet
|
| Carefully served by a fluorescent sky
|
| She swallows the light
|
| Only to throw up shadows minutes later
|
| On a broken public toilet
|
| Inside her
|
| The neonism is fed until it burst with colour
|
| Inside her
|
| The neonism is fed
|
| Unleashing the brightest shadow of all times
|
| Until it burst with colour
|
| She swallows the light
|
| Only to throw up shadows minutes later
|
| On a broken public toilet
|
| A noise is released; |
| high-pitched
|
| Voices, the rumbling of tin and
|
| Machines, devilish decibels
|
| Open my eyes, see what I expected; |
| red
|
| Melted plastic, yellow neon, pompous sunset over Lucky Beach
|
| In the street
|
| Metallic streams wash the concrete shores
|
| Gaia is wet and sick
|
| But she doesn’t care anymore
|
| Hair sticks to her face as she screams
|
| Being absorbed by colours
|
| Now she’s the brightest one of all
|
| But no one’s there to see
|
| Gaia is wet and sick
|
| She swallows the light
|
| Only to throw up shadows minutes later
|
| On a broken public toilet
|
| When everything abates at last
|
| The universal glue cements wrong
|
| To true, keeps the tongues in place
|
| Now she’s the brightest one of all
|
| The weightlessness from life
|
| The total orchestra concluded
|
| No one expected to see |