You can't imagine parlor ballads drifting out of high-rise multi-towered buildings. That kind of music existed in a more timeless state of life.

reality has too many heads

And I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinking.

Thinking of a series of dreams
Where the time and the tempo fly
And there's no exit in any direction
'Cept the one that you can't see with your eyes

Play it fuckin' loud!

When you've got nothing, you've got nothing to loose.