Album: We Didn't Even Suspect He Was the Poppy Salesman
Gone, the stream will wash the blood away
and the children will go back
and play... at killing again
in the clear shallows.
...and the stream flows down and it pools in clay.
Nothing ever seems to go away... but it has.
Forever...forever...
Now that your attention is perfectly divided,
and you begin to oscillate
in the middle of this structureless oasis.
Where there's no such thing as love,
there is no such thing as hate
...and my head's still spinning
from the reel.