On the last pneumatic encounter 100 years before you in time Who'd have thought that we would go further? Phonographs, machines that can fly Found the world eclipsed by a fever Cutting down the young in their prime How it shudders from its expanding How it trembles, lungs on the line How convulsive, gasps of the modern… Reaching out to grasp hands with mine On our last pneumatic encounter Men in metal fly through the sky Find the world eclipsed by a fever Striking ma**es down in their prime How it trembles while it's unwinding How it shudders, lungs on the line