A culmination of paranoia emerges as we lose the human dimension of the city. Glittering canals shape the light in our eyes as we pass by, guiding our spirits safely home as the sounds slowly fade away into night sky. It’s not our time to go although the balancing act slowly becomes more extravagant and abstract until we find another way to stand on one toe. Piecing together all the perplexations, realization that all the shit that you have chatted float down the ether stream to Timbuktu never to be seen again, and the lion at the end dribbles and spits, waiting for words of shite to come walking his way so him and his lioness can slowly butcher every last note, until just dust is left.