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• Artiste: Sleeping Years (The)
• Titre: Clocks and Clones
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Close your eyes, we'll sound the way through old souls all rapt in wonder for the arc of them, a stitch of vein, reflecting on each other. Communicating down the line with hints and curves appearing on measured ground and plotted stars, they're spilling out. The city choirs will sing 'til dawn, their songs like cables wailing. A twitch and jump, a rush of blood, all resonating outwards. I dream of clocks, I dream of clones sounding out together, the click of hearts and the hours lost as I breathe on. Radios with callers breaking through for I don't know how long now. This babbling, this slip of tongues all fused into one. This is the sound of dislocating, this is the sound of distance overtaking and all my words and thoughts are failing above the sound of something being swamped. These are the sounds my heart was cupped to catch before I sleep. These are the sounds that muscle in around you while you speak.