The projectionist sleeps In the stalls underneath the seats Where the folks left over an hour ago Snowy footprints in the streets Maybe in his dreams She appears all covered in trees And he pushes his way through her branches And he sings out loud in his sleep As a bird breaks the sky But it’s men who looks through its eyes And drop awfulness from its talons Above rooftops where he lies That wonderful place Falls into a deadly cascade An image of an audience’ faces
Glows warmly then it fades The projectionist sleeps In the stalls underneath the seats Far beneath the cities new mountain The noise wakes a whale from her sleep The walls are keeling in The birds that don’t exist I believe in everything The monster peering in The picture flickering All the things that don’t exist I believe in everything