From the recording Twelves
Lyrics
we were headed south
on twenty nine
the clock
spoke of the lapse
from a severed nerve
in the back of time
the bridge was out
we jumped the synapse
and we’re off the road
and off the clock
and through the hedges
that we’re betting
will slow us down
and absorb
all the details
that you’re sweating
and we won’t know
until we get there
if sense of timing
has been impaired
hands are broken
digits despair
pressing forward
until we get there
hurry up before the sun burns out