He sits alone. A mechanical room. One single light.
No indication of whether the time is day or night.
He sets the film on the spool, the one everyone had paid to see.
He turns switch - and he doesn't exist.
He becomes a machine who hears the sound.
(Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha)
And the audience laughs, and the audience cries.
(Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha)
As he tries to pretend that he's watching his life.
(Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha)
And they don't know that he's there.
Till the day he's not there.
Lucy Camp is versatile AF. This is an entire EP of Synthwave flavored goodness we cooked up together. She's the future, get on board now. Peter Anthony Red