I know how it's gonna be when I die. It's going to be no noise, you ain't going to hear people screaming. I'mma fade out.

Man goes into the noisy crowd to drown his own clamour of silence.

It is that wind it is that voice buzzing it is whispering and whistling in the wires miles upon miles upon miles on the wires in the wind in the subway track in the rolling road in the not silent bush it is the voice of the noise here it comes the Third World Express they must say, here we go again.