The Space In Between (Ben Böhmer Remix (Live At The Roundhouse, London))

Can’t figure out how we got here,

living on decay.

The 7 words left on paper

will disconnect the day.

and you want

a new want

and you want

anything that’s clear

And it’s all around us

as ghosted machines.

Would the real be just silent

if there’s a hole in the key?

At the bar in the basement

for an hour-glass of tea.

Our love is a violent

constant space in between.

And the taste has got a texture,

smoke has not a sound.

The fabric that was fixed here

inherent in the ground.

And it’s all around us

as ghosted machines.

Would the real be just silent

if there’s a hole in the key?

At the bar in the basement

for an hour-glass of tea.

Our love is a violent

constant space in between.

And as much as I’d like to

believe there’s a truth

about our illusion, well

I’ve come to conclude:

There’s just nothing beyond it

the mind can perceive

except for the pictures in

the space in between.