Echoes and Opera

The morning TV talk show paranoid androids, sing another exit music song, lulling us to sleep, while they burn witches, so many secrets to keep, Burning witches, so many secrets to keep Burning witches again, too many secrets to keep Street spirit love blooms in the bulletproof karma's gaze Pyramid flowers nurtured by the fake morning haze Might be wrong, but feels like the morning thief is here Embrace the idioteque enigma, shake off all you fear We can dance in the grey of another fake plastic day Through the spectre, whispers in the rainy hourglass stream Fading into broadcasts, echoes of a half-remembered dream Black star opera, an enigmatic, haunting serenade Climbing up the walls, the melody becomes a blade Kaleidoscopic lullabies, spiral through the misty air Sirens song ethereal, a requiem so debonair