Voices - Vicarious Lover

I'm not myself
I am the actor

Waiting the cues
Unknown direction
From unknown directors
Actions that haunt
The invisible audience
See me, In the reflection
As I saw you

This distance means nothing
It has to be nothing
Final performance
Redefine the actions

Come back as a flower
Come back as a rose

Through the ageless void
Through the camera eye

We are all the same
I know and you know
This is rehearsed
This is rehearsed

[Narration:]
He travels by night, journeys without destination in cold buses and cold patrons without features He wonders if indeed they are anything like him without identity or soul, berift of purpose, condemned to exist in the small hours. Not real people at all, rats and maggots incapable of keeping the rhythm of humanity, sent alone to survive outside the hive. Distinct from the dealers, pimps, burglars and filth, at least they posess a crass purpose, fighting for urban surival amongst themselves.

Contaminating Lambeth street corners under pestilential night skies they retreat among dawn light bleeds through clouds and the city stirs from zombie.