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lyrics

Falling from the stars, a second city comes to take the place of the daytime grid, dusky gold and purple beneath the street lamps, spectrum of a royal capital.

Downtown towers turn to silver mountains, distant peaks we never reach. Solitary car stopped at a red signal, enigmatic creature native to the late night city

Late night city, nothing so pretty. Late night city, nothing so pretty.

Somewhere a club pounds like rush hour traffic, too workaday, too easy to find, lights pulsating like office software, a night life with nothing to do with the late night city.

Come on sleep dance in sodium twilight on halogen trail through in-between places where concrete and asphalt refract the ambient glow, a nocturne of synthetic sublime.

Soon the sun will rise over nothing new, burn away mirage and desert evening cool. Back into hiding goes an entire city until by darkness we find it again

Late night city, nothing so pretty. Late night city, nothing so pretty.

credits

from Ceci N'Est Pas Un Arbre, track released May 16, 2017

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The New Birds of America Toronto, Ontario

The New Birds of America is Blaise Moritz and sometimes others.

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