Τσπος γεννησεως

Upon dozing in the ambience of this strange modern city we begin to dream, taking in all that's ancient and buried and recognizing all of the wormholes between the dead and the now, the crumbled and the negotiating. Like limestone or oil, the dead are a midden from which we and our ideas and actions spring continuously; the symbiosis between decay and renewal are built under any city that's truly alive and magical. Let's party it up, all of us.

So continuing on from last week's Track Two from Embers, ("Filoxenia"), we give you "Τσπος γεννησεως" (Greek for "Place of Birth"). Oh he seems poor, but oh he seems old. Or so it seems.