A Filter for the Modern Age
Beneath the dark-light of night
And the soft daze of rain
It feels as though the world begins to fade
Signs erased by the rhythmic downpour
Shopfronts like blank postcards
Recounting memories never made
The towns which glisten beneath this rain
Run smooth with the melting fat of history
The homogenising filter of the modern age
The streets, clogged arteries of artificial light
Burning shadows into the misery-haunted earth
Horror Sleaze Trash 