Thin man in a powder blue suit with eyes that slice you through
The cut of his clothes was strange indeed (a hundred years too soon).
A passing stranger with no business here, a rest stop on a voyage through time
a rest stop.
A passing stranger in a dream we had
the man with the patented face
the one with the telescope eyes
the man who walked away.
Someone handed me a gun,
hit the switch and ran.
I laughed and shot at the ceiling
I laughed and shot at the walls.
The smell of fusing metal permeates the scene
music plays in empty halls
music plays in empty halls.
Underneath the street light the stranger calls your name
He flickers to a halt
and slowly fades away.
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