Green Screens

This could take some time
Everything waits on assembly lines - but not here
In the emergence of plan
We'll be surrounded by hands

The storyboard outlines our escape
And second guesses will be erased;
On the cutting room floor
Everything falls into place

If only our futures could be tamed
Suddenly our past would have no say
And in the emergence of film, pouring overhead
Our bodies relearn how to feel
And somehow the screen embodies every ideal
As the orchestra so sweetly reveals
And the background artist carries us there...
The conflict compliments repair

We're all on the edge of our seats
We're all on the edge of our seats
Until the end