Green Screens

This could take some time

Everything waits on assembly lines - but not here

In the emergence of plan

We'll be surrounded by hands

The storyboard outlines our escape

And second guesses will be erased;

On the cutting room floor

Everything falls into place

If only our futures could be tamed

Suddenly our past would have no say

And in the emergence of film, pouring overhead

Our bodies relearn how to feel

And somehow the screen embodies every ideal

As the orchestra so sweetly reveals

And the background artist carries us there...

The conflict compliments repair

We're all on the edge of our seats

We're all on the edge of our seats

Until the end