take off our bodies
fall into a foreign dream of
a fantastic car without wheels
that speeds along with heavenly grace
nobody at the wheel
just you you and me
three of us in the back seat
warm under an old red blanket
good good sweet lord
cruise down a jet-black
highway…
that ebon city up ahead
wash itself with smoke
or maybe not a city
maybe not smoke
only what we imagine as such
the silent shadows in silent streets
what we imagine as mournful soldiers
waving to three vanishing ghosts