A tall building, outside. Birdcalls, this landscape.
One person stretches, Someone mumbles behind that tower.
Music and a language that I can imagine. Was 
A city there, out farther? He walked miles outside, saw nothing.

Wandering, candles, just some crowd in the centre of flaming pots
Some strange road. We heard more than just this small room.
It could come alive, the limits are close to the centre.

We flew where the gates cross about 
And saw the no-one people speak empty streets 
So dimly lit. Don’t pity this one room,
It’s time there’s quiet here, in the standing.