Hauntologist - Hollow

Now I swim through the neons
High on light, tied in wires
Dressed in concrete, paint is scraping off, painters sleep

I hear farewells through the phone calls
Crying voltage, soundproof walls, breeding windows into chessboards
Endless patterns
In deadline air -

Does workday die with dusk?
Or just the future plans die with dawn?

Heart failures, soul failures
Calling an angelwinged ambulance
Floor texture, blood pressure
Drunk saviour

There is no question if the ghosts exist – you are ghosts
And so are we

Heart failures, soul failures
Calling an angelwinged ambulance
Floor texture, blood pressure
Drunk saviour
Infusion of fire in dead veins

The Earth is hollow
And so are we.