the lost weekend
Glowing lights disrupt the darkness both inside and out
A flowing mass
Singing, showing what we really are and what we’re about
There’s no such thing as individual here
No, this is the reality that lies underneath.
Behind the suits, behind the slogans; behind the propaganda, behind the fear.
Underneath, yes, but present. Now at the surface.
Revealing itself for a transient, transcendental moment
Yielding wholly to nature…. Then burying it down, hiding it away, until the next lost weekend.