If you manage elation, in stasis it comes
The masturbation, or the newscast of a minimal bomb
When you flee from the station, in engines that gong
The conversation, the hesitation
Or the figure 5 gold
If you manage vacation alone, i know i know
To all the people in reservations of one
Asleep within dream on the carpets of dawn
Running their fingers on the branches like arms
Whispering i know, and i will not tell
This could be the sun, or a hole in the dark
And run by run they put out the flames