The Bright Light Social Hour - Ghost Dance lyrics

A glowing dawn of crowded eyes Each a screaming pulsar Wounded knees, dance 'til clean The needles in the ghost Grit, sand, silica Demand perfect porcelain Distant glimmers' ancient dust Begs the flesh to rise Cut like knives through black exhaust A terror in full blossom Whitewash dreams, blowing steam We have not arrived Grit, sand, silica Ground to dense perfection On the outskirts of consciousness Together deep inside