In this Epilogue of bright lights big city
We are the emergency of our blind feeling
Of being a passenger forever-after
There’s a crisis and we are the wild invention
Of our necessity, what could be more intimate than that?
And we inhabit the revolution of the moments
Shooting between the eyes, with breasts
That point forwards with an ecstasy
And another story of a girl leaving home
There’s no compass like a soul’s minutes
That blink in and out of time
And we needed off stage, we needed to get away
The moon never did us any good
Trembling like a rabbit quivers
We felt the wonderful wild animal within
For flight or fight it didn’t matter much
We just had to make our own life right.
Wuji Seshat 