The smoke dances And the two colours make love In spiral of cancer Chairs stacked to burn And their firey reflection Shows in the windows of gaping sockets Silence, could be dripping from every pour Violence, could be melting into every scar North is east tonight, as the big magnet says Point out the flowers and lift my fringe Teach me and spin my photos of machines The sun has got to me, boiling fat in my belly Octagon sword moon Like a red breasted pecker Stands out in the plush greens Ill falling petals Lounge reluctantly Incase of a dry Monday Silence, could be dripping from every pour Violence, could be melting into every scar Why are they looking at us?