Strange Warnings
Oli Bayston, Rose Elinor Dougall
Wide awake, the dead of night
Fragments and shards they bend and they writhe
Untouchable
Snatched words and broken melodies
Start to form shapes in front of me
Infinite, changing
Strange warnings
Old promises
All of the things that might have been
Traversing the mysterious landscapes of our bruised bodies
That have become a foreign land
I see you in cyclorama
Visions of you are moving further away
Further away
Strange warnings
Old promises
All of the things that might have been
