A single moment was enough to create this:
A retinal distraction when a scatter of light
Hits and forms an image.
Perfection is the harshest term.
The shade of your eyes is a curse, it’s a curse.
Don’t look at me.
Don’t look at me, it hurts.

The neurons have fired, the neurons have fired:
A torrential surge through the optic nerve…
I can’t find the words.
The warmth of a body in an empty bed…
When only the scent is left, only dissent is left.

A single moment was enough to create this:
A retinal distraction when a scatter of light
Hits and forms an image.
Perfection is the harshest term.
The shade of your eyes is a curse, it’s a curse.
Don’t look at me.
Don’t look at me, it hurts.

The neurons have fired, the neurons have fired:
A torrential surge through the optic nerve…
I can’t find the words.
The warmth of a body in an empty bed…
When only the scent is left, only dissent is left.

It’s too late for rational sense
The neurons have fired, the neurons have fired

A single moment was enough to create this:
A retinal distraction when a scatter of light
Hits and forms an image.
Perfection is the harshest term.
The shade of your eyes is a curse, it’s a curse.
Don’t look at me.
Don’t look at me, it hurts.



Song name Synapse
Artist Linea Aspera
Album Linea Aspera
Track number 1
Year 2012
Original text by Alison Lewis