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Scott Walker
-
Nite Flights
theres no hold
the moving -
has come thru
the danger
brushing you
turns its face
into the heat
and runs
the tunnels
its so cold
the dark
dug up
by dogs
the stitches
torn and broke
the raw meat fist
you choke
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has hit
the BLOODLITE
glass traps
open and close
on nite flights
broken necks
feather weights
press - the walls
be my love
we will be GODS
on nite flights
with
only one promise
only one way
to FALL
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