As night comes to the city, she’s working hard on her computer
She takes her work and bundles it up now, and then she shrugs her shoulders
Slowly plods her way downstairs, drops the key off, starts the motor
Saves her life on tiny disks, they’re not backed up, but she’ll take that risk

Give or take an hour or two, he’ll be heading in the same direction
Swapping one desktop for another in the search for his reflection
Figures dance before their eyes, but keep the world outside at distance
Help to keep outside — the night

Four floors up he knows she’s gone, he felt the movement in the ether
With the city spread below, he calls to her across suburbia
The city will not carry his voice tonight

Back at home the keys still click to the rhythm of their isolation
The flicker on the VDU’s got the same old shade of grey frustration
Both the desktops look the same in the quiet of their bedrooms
Help to keep outside — the night

Four floors up he knows she’s gone, he felt the movement in the ether
With the city spread below, he calls to her across suburbia
Though the tiny icon lights up green in an empty room but goes unseen
She can’t hear his hi-fi — Joni singing:
“everything comes and goes
pleasure moves on too early, trouble leaves too slow” — not tonight

He never knows if he’ll be found, running for the underground
But she looks for him in there
Scanners trace him through the park, a red dot moving through the dark
She waits for him in there
All the anger, all the pain, surfaces inside again
All the passion, all the sex, all the heat of being...
Cyber — ex
Waiting on the Ethernet, but he’s not connected yet