#1
Heres a song I wrote about a very surreal dream I had where I was stood on a hilltop watching a city grow in a valley. The narative voice in teh first two stanzas is the voice of the city, the last one is my own voice.

You cant imagine what I've seen
I've seen dreamers torn to ribbons
In a haze of nicotine
In the streetlight, nothing grows
That isnt part of a larger machine
That never sleeps, never dreams
And you cant kill it because its part of me

Ive seen the same things reoccur
Ive seen the suicides of men
Who watched the traffic from the kerb
The rolling thunder, the concrete slur
There are a thousand deaths a year
Due to the rage that I incur
And there is no privacy
These streets are a silent voyeur

Such a tragedy!
Thers a fire, and the family
Are trapped on the balcony
Such a callous scene
As their pleas fall silent
On the murmurs of the street
O What a tragedy!
That the only witness
should be the silent apathy
Of a broken sign
Staring, indifferent
In its neon complacency