Episode — Theatre Of Tragedy

Moving sideways through the sold photo Slow figures flashing on tiptoe Crashing cars on a blue tableau Goes to show it wasn't everywhere No one steering, just an auto-move Round and round the streetlights in the groove Flying windscreens, dropping down below Aisles of bricks, crumbling with the smoke Here we go

Dissolving turnpikes in a placid light Intersections similarly white I never found the concrete slab I must have left it on the showroom tab Escalators moving side to side Round and round the footprints on the slide From a picture, the city turned and spoke There she was, the woman in the smoke Here we go

I think you suit me I'll make you happy You specify me You can't deny me

Must have left my eyes on a moving train Tangled phone lines told me to revoke Turgid reasons, everything's mundane There she was, the woman in the smoke Here we go

I guess you suit me Do you extend me? You maximise me You can't deny me I think you suit me I'll make you happy