On the couch on the table
the air is thick it might be daylight
on the bar on the floor
Even the walls are sweating
the air is moving is alive
on the couch on the table
Life is inventing itself in time
with whatever this song is
on the bar on the floor
The people become bodies
become silhouettes become silent
on the couch on the table
Noise is background white space
everything is erasing itself
on the bar on the floor
There are eyes only staring out
from your darkness and from mine
on the couch on the table
on the bar on the floor
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