The Archs of De Chirico
Rows of houses all bearing down on me
I can feel their blue hands touching me
All these things into position
All these things we'll one day swallow whole
And fade out again
And fade out
This machine will, will not communicate
These thoughts and the strain I am under
Be a world child, form a circle
Before we all go under
These thoughts and the strain I am under
Be a world child, form a circle
Before we all go under
And fade out again
And fade out again
And fade out again
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