My lonely sighs sing a frozen echo of the serenade. Lulled between white walls, my skin blends in. I'm modeling a perfect camouflage... and they're never gonna find me here. A 4 x 4 carpeted dance floor. I am a star on Tuesday nights. As the side window lends itself for prismatic prodigy a retinal witnessing of the phenomenon fabricates a spotlight effect requesting some kind of vaudeville act. Mobile electrical frequencies harbor a spastic network of movements. A 4 x 4 carpeted dance floor. I am a star on Tuesday nights.