Most of the Day We Were At the Machinery In the Dark Sheds That the Seasons Ignore I Held the Levers That Guided the Signals to the Radio But the Words I Receive, Random Code, Broken Fragments From Before. Out in the Trees My Reason Deserting Me All the Dark Stars Cluster Over the Bay. Then in a Certain Moment I Lose Control and At Last I Am Part of the Machinery. (The Belldog) Where Are You? And the Light Disappears As the World Makes Its Circle Through the Sky.