Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 14

Today is Thursday, the 21st of June 2018.

I start. I stop. I start and I stop. I am a living start-stop-automatic in person. What is a start-stop-automatic? I don't have the slightest clue... But who cares.

Whassesong? Whassesong? Whassesong?

"Bromford"

I look down from my window

To the island where I'm held

They listen while you're sleeping

And darkness is itself

Tomorrow I'm disappearing

Cause the trees are amplified

The never ending broadcast

To which I do not aspire

Hear the mausoleum's fallen

And the perfect avenues

Will seem empty without you

And the pink light that bathed the great leaders

Is fading

By the time your sun is rising there

Out here it's turning blue

The silver rocket's coming

And the cherry trees of Bromford

I'm leaving

I feel like I'm floating

Processed in autotune

The never ending roll on

To the palace of the doomed

Temperature keeps falling

Soon there will be no lights

Just a red glow, glass coffin

Watched by someone through the night

Hear the mausoleum's fallen

And the perfect avenues

Will seem empty without you

And the pink light that bathed the great leaders

Is fading

By the time your sun is rising there

Out here it's turning blue

The silver rocket's coming

And the cherry trees of Bromford

I'm leaving

There will be no light

Someone through the night

Someone through the night

Hear the mausoleum's fallen

And the perfect avenues

Will seem empty without you

And the pink light that bathed the great leaders

Is fading

By the time your sun is rising there

(Years ago when we used to be rivals)

Out here it's turning blue

The silver rocket's coming

(Our youths' minds and arms)

And the cherry trees of Bromford

(Were bound for our own survival)

I'm leaving