Novembre

The shadow of the Earth
Abyssing your lonely water-visage
Giving us a breather from the yoke of the Star
Before utter oppression restarts
In a schism of major zones of remote dreams
Where I own the empire
You hand me the keys
And the sceptre of your playground
A parade of fast satellites across a slow night-sky
And once again it's dawn
They're made of steel and chrome
The screams propagating through
The coldness of the outer space
It's a message no-one is gonna get