transmission
If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is: Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.
Aldous Huxley, The Doors of Perception
Radio, live transmission/Listen to the silence, let it ring on/Eyes, dark grey lenses/frightened of the sun/We would have a fine time living in the night/Left to blind destruction/Waiting for our sight.
Joy Division, Transmission
