A giant factory, a church of industry, if you like.
The old-fashioned kind, brickwalls rise into eternal darkness.
Filled with beautiful machines, huge, long iron necks cutting through dusky light,
building things during the day. They sleep at night, resting their metal-limbs in absolute stillness,
that's what everyone believes.....
But if you stand very still and peek through the hole, the missing brick has left,
you see them rise....very...veeeeery...slowly...rising their heads...stretching...dancing...
waltzing in slow-motion the secret-machine-dance, their rusty voices form an eerie choire....
You will be tempted to join them...
And next time, you pass a crane, you'll give it a gentle nudge with your nose....
