Seven!
Seven!

I'm keeping my commission
To faith's transmission
Two speakers dream the same
And skies turn red
Satellites flashing down Orchard and Delancey
I can't get laid cuz everyone is dead

Hey - gold connections
Analog soul waving in your hair
Hey - hylozoic directions
She's talking blue streaks everywhere

Your spirit is time-reversed to your body
Stereographic mix-up field on field
It started growing up the day your body dies
Only apparently real to irreal

Hey - stereo stations
Perfect image, kneel down
Hey - hypostatic information
Come on let's hear you turn it around