Electricity

A city is the stones, not the people

Why should it be?

People breed and die

They come and they go

Faithless

The stones speak -

A language of hopes & fears

that nobody understands -

like poetry.

Can a city die?

Probably not

But like the insane do in their awful solitude

it speaks only to itself.

Nobody understands

Nobody understands

All the words that we've cherished for so long

fall on deaf ears

Children, hear our hopes and fears

Hope and fear

And maybe after all the years

the city does go mad too

whispering in the dark

strange talk

Nobody understands

Nobody understands

All the words that we've cherished for so long

fall on deaf ears

Children, hear our hopes and fears

Hope and fear

The sun sets and people flee

and in the surrounding hills

they huddle against the empty darkness

around their suburban campfires

Above in the sky the stars come undone

Below in the city there's nothing but strange talk

which feels like all the faded hopes that never were