Most of the day, we were at the machinery
In the dark sheds that the seasons ignored
I held the levers that guided the signals to the radio
But the words I received, random code, broken fragments from before
Out in the trees, my reason deserting me
Oh, the dark stars cluster over the bay
Then in a certain moment, I lose control
And at last, I am part of the machinery
Where are you?
And the light disappears
As the world makes its circle through the sky
Artist: Cramps
Artist: Point Of Grace
Artist: Frankie J