Made a machine by describing the landscape A child made out of a song about money Our sex became a boxer who moved in next door retired A separate man we thought we knew Joked about him feared a little bit nodded hello Admired from a distance Like when leon spinx moevd into town My leg falls asleep and becomes a telephone call Whispered on the black stairs The cord disappears behind the kitchen door Breathing in the pauses seeing how long We can go without saying anything