German translation and phoned in performance by our friend Daniel in Frankfurt.
Smooth grinding of the miles, a stained-glass look at broken land.
Friction in the cylinders, a throttle blast of sun-burned sand.
Heat through you, my love, Irma shaking in my hands.
Drunken dogs in uniforms, hang under their cigarettes.
Bolt Breaks, Sidecar, over the cliff, Free flight, Earthbound…
The ground’s so near, it’s so clear.