I'm keeping my commission to faith's transmission Two speakers dream the same and skies turn red Satellites flashing down orchard and delancey I can't get laid cuz everyone is dead Hey - gold connections Analog soul waving in yr hair Hey - hylozoic directions She's talking blue streaks everywhere Your spirit is time-reversed to your body Stereographic mix-up field on field It started growing up the day your body dies Only apparently, real to irreal Hey - stereo stations Perfect image, kneel down Hey - hypostatic information Come on let's hear you turn it around