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I barely remember my instincts, my home,
a golden age of my own.
On a concrete ground I watch the weather change,
things we should never derange.
I see beauty in dying flowers.
I find bliss in acid rain.
These days it all seems so mundane.
Everyone is wired to a dying tree.
Everyone is connected to the sea.
On my plastic floor I just can't seem to get
it's all perfectly coherent.
Everyone is wired to a dying tree.
Everyone is connected to the sea.
Radio waves radiation in the air we breathe
Everyone is choking on our frequencies
credits
from Circuithead,
released December 1, 2012
Music and Words - Kubbi
Vocals - Live-Andrea Gjessen Rasch