Melting into slo-mo An inevitable slowing Weak in the knees and in the fists All signs waiting patiently for you to spot them pointing and your esp is on the fritz Day 3 Christen this city with the sound you grew up wanting jangle trauma in the light
Bus stop junkies looking pretty as the morning Jungle hot after a rainy night Day 3 And by dawn we're floating Flying And by dawn we're neurons firing