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Crushed into a dead zone Just out of frame Worn faces collect around archaic taps Gaunt, starved of signal The price of contact extortionate A thing guarded by glass and derision A heron wades among creek rocks A man cross-legged, under an overpass Shirtless, sunburnt shoulders The bird takes flight While the man hangs his head Like a weight at the end of a rope Sodium lights give a plastic pallor To the few stubborn wisps of flora And the same orange minute Turns over and over There are pauses between the sounds of trucks downshifting And looping recorded advertisements To hear the pure, free movement of the creek water Eroding a path towards the sea Aus Songtexte Mania