Most of the day
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We were at the machinery
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In the dark sheds
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That the seasons ignore
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I held the levers that guided the signals to the radio
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But the words I receive, random code, broken fragments from before.
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Out in the trees
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My reason deserting me
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All the dark stars
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Cluster over the bay.
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Then in a certain moment
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I lose control and at last I am part of the machinery.
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(The belldog) Where are you?
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And the light disappears
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As the world makes its circle through the sky.
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The Belldog
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Brian Eno |