This track is based on a poem of mine, written about my life in Beijing as a foreigner. 
Co-created with Aled. 

Underground Transit

The train screeches to a hard halt. 
People wait anxiously. Awaiting war.
Some push. Some get pushed. 
The intercom beeps. 
The doors open. 
Little old ladies step through the crowd pushing and barging all those who stand in their way. Numb of remorse.
The rest of the crowd, those needing to get off, stampede towards the doors like hunted antelope. 
Handbags swing. Backpacks scrape. Elbows fly. Feet get trodden. 
Tension builds.
Frustration lingers.

As the crowd pushes out, the crowd ahead, those who are waiting to come inside, push in. 
For a brief moment... 
War begins. 
But only for a brief moment. 
Young girls get elbowed. 
The polite elderly get pushed into corners. 
Frail men get barged.
Faces rub against faces. 
Sweat drips from head to head. 
No space.
No privacy.
Just war. 
A brief moment of war.
Suffocation. 
Resistance.

The doors close. 
The train jolts ahead.
War pauses.
Limbo begins.
Minutes pass.
Limbo ends.
The train comes to a hard halt. 
People wait anxiously. 
Some push. Some get pushed. 
The intercom beeps. 
The doors open. 

History repeats.

Underground Transit - Jay and Aled

This track is based on my life living in the Beijing smog, Aled, and I decided to create the mysterious weather machine using mechanic samples, that supposedly exist in Beijing. 

The track is based on my poem, "The sky with no sun"

Sun, sun, where are you?
Why can’t I see you?
You leave the sky so bare.
So grey.
So gloomy.
Without you.

Sun, sun, where are you?
Why can’t I see you?
You leave the minds of myself and others so bare.
So grey.
So gloomy.
Without you.

Sun, sun, where are you?
Why can’t I see you?
We need you.
We need you to fight.
To beam bright.
And we will too.

Sun, sun, where are you?
Why can’t I see you?
We need you.
We need to fight too.
To bring you hope.
And so will you too.

Sun, sun, I have found you.
I can see you?
You leave the sky so bright.
So blue.
So joyous.
With you.

The diplomat leaves. 
The weather machine turns off.
The sun gets strangled.
The sky goes grey.
So gloomy.
Without you. 

Sun, sun, where are you?
Why can’t I see you?
You leave the sky so bare.
So grey.
So gloomy.
Without you.

History repeats.

Jay Ventress

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