Bichi – Notwithstanding

layers of generation without number

in the parallax of your gaze vivid

wait for the howl of the city

whirl a stream of comfort to cool and surround me until i lose sight of my on defeat

coarse and wild as the cement of your broken city crumbles

clouds are parcelled out across my vision

as you glimpsed the line of my shoulderbaldes

counting out horizons in discrete steps

balancing i am the god of small change scamming my way through the future

reveolve the sun my footfalls are superfluous