Fractured signs, they waste my time,

they concentrate, they take what's mine,

lost they move like fractured ghosts,

to empty heads in empty lines.



Trapped in frames of empty films,

a war is flat, in frames they kill,

light will char and edits cut,

they broadcast stare-

they know they must.



Faded raids before they fold

into themselves

it's done I'm told,

acting last repeats to last

and beats you back

when credits rolled.



Build yourself a fame through fire

and douse it out

when you require,

list your age on lilac page

strength in a crawl

back to the stage.



When it's obvious they're not scared of us

they will drag you back to cold,

all film burnt at source, much too fast of course

they will drag you back for more

when your wish runs out they will make you doubt

they will drag you back for more

when your frame runs dry minds will start to fly

they will break before they fold.



Broadcasting once

Broadcasting twice

Broadcasting one two three four five.