Cast a cold eye
On life, on death.
Horseman, pass by!
Cast a cold eye
On life, on death.
Horseman, pass by!
“Three bikers in metallized boots and Mad Max leathers sat at the outdoor tables. They formed a feral presence in the hypermodern complex, like carrion-birds on a skyscraper cornice, filling an unplanned niche in the ecology of the future.”
J. G. Ballard | Super-Cannes