IGHT YOURSELF A CIGGIE
THEN DRIVE THROUGH THE CITY
WATCH THE BIRDS LOST IN FLIGHT
IF YOU INDULGE IN THE FRENZY
THEN STRAYING IS EASY
THEY'RE BLINDED BY OUR LIGHTS

ROWS OF POLES
A CROWD OF MOLES
THEY'RE SEARCHING FOR DIRECTION
VANISHING GOALS
THE NIGHT UNFOLDS
AND WE'RE BEGGING FOR SALVATION
A RAIN OF COAL
THEY HIT THE SOIL
AND WE BLAME IT ON LIGHT POLLUTION

KNOWING THESE STREETS
WELL, THEY'RE SHAPED BY OUR FEET
BUT IT'S STILL AN ALIEN SIGHT
AND I CANT SEEM TO FIT
IN, BUT I'M FIGHTING MY HABIT
OF DESIGNING ALTERED PLIGHTS

NEIGHBOURHOODS
OF CONCRETE WOODS
AND I'M SEARCHING FOR DIRECTION
CHANGING MY MOOD
WHERE YOU ONCE STOOD
AND WE'RE BEGGING FOR SALVATION
RIDE A CLOUD
BEFORE YOUR (GLITTERING) BLOOD
ADDS TO LIGHT POLLUTION

See also:
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