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Psychedelic Furs (1984)

sometimes talking to ghosts, whispering in the dark, the silence of twilight hours a bridge between dreams and sleep, future and past, clutching at the air, reaching for something not yet formed or something that has been and gone; the mystical, the magical, the unknowable to be stumbled upon infrequently in waking life but a glorious prize only found deep down, buried in the unconscious, dancing, swaying, beckoning on hazy shores just beyond reality’s grasp.

Robyn Hitchcock (2014)

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