She had that kick of winter in her voice. A black vest pulled together with a fist and a sneer. She would greet confusion with "Shut up", but expect a response. She was unimpressed and bored. And here, inside, she had plans for morality that could only be compromised by her competitive ambition to achieve them. Her unborn children would wash the streets clean at night in dreams with soap and spinning bristles. Usually in slow motion. Here, inside, she sat idle while her mind wandered to goals. She said you didn't have anything she needed. But here, inside, she sat.
Animal Collective - Street Flash (mp3)