Modern Pressure Video (MV)

The name of every landlord is displayed out on the awning
And the farmers in the amber fields were harmonized in yawning
As the memory of the ghost hung at the exit
And the city doctor called in feeling head sick

All the freedom-founding fathers
Altogether speak too soon
The sounds that mutter underneath
The glowing, Greek blue moon
As a tide rolls up beyond the walking trail
Soon un-hibernated every mocking gale
React to it at your leisure, modern pressure

All the streets were filled with carbon
And a pack of trembling dogs
The weather comes in from the east spills a Kremlin fog
As they fill the holes of every open tomb
In the factories of thirty broken looms

The sky was open wide
And it was pouring Civil War
The body that you carry was comprised of simple lore
Where the iceman at the cinema wrote anagrams
No no one could go past your little diaphragms
The stillness of the change in weather, modern pressure

That oasis sometimes lingers like a patch of blackened ice
The cellars of the ruins have been locked and packed in twice
Only names are what remain to label view
Where I heard the prayers of sex and table food
Up beyond the sunrise waits another pounding storm
Somewhere from the rubble sounds of nothing sounding born

At the zero grounds of future battle sites
While the gods still fill our heads with satellites
Take the seeds my holy thresher, modern pressure