When the river hits its stride the streets begin to flood,
begin to flood the days dissolve in air, the hour’s
getting late. Church bells make their rounds, prepare
for war. The taxi drives us home.
The species start to die. The d.j. changes tracks.
The d.j. changes tracks the wind begins to blow
the coffee’s almost done.
The car pulls off the road and now the trial can finally start.
Air prepares the river, the tribe begins to die, the
taxi changes streets, species make their home home.