Текст песни
The caravan lost its bell in the dunes
I followed a snake that was singing in tune
Your name on my lips tastes like iron and figs
The 808 pulses – a ghost in my ribs
Sand in the hourglass… stuck at the neck
Blues slide on a string that is starting to crack
Moroccan hands clap… but nobody’s there
Just the tremolo ghost of a guitar player’s prayer
Oh, break the rhythm, break the bone
I’ll meet you where the guzheng groans
Between the 808 and the erhu’s cry
We’ll make a new passion from a old, old lie
Clap… clap… dust… clap
Trap hi-hats like a fever map
Break the rhythm, break the throne
The blues wolf howls in the gilded zone
The desert’s just a drum that lost its skin
And you – you are the break I keep falling in
