Bauhaus. In The Flat Field. Nerves. Zeneszám

Nerve ends tick in flicker book animation
One eye's closed in fear, anticipation
Will it stay shut? Will it ever open?
What if, what if? Nerves

Tell tale tongues lick at seven senses
Brittle spittle sparks, you are defenseless
The fabric of dreams is ripped apart
As you feel the twist of the shadowed dagger
In your pumping heart, nerves

Nerves like nylon, nerves like steel
Nerves like nylon, nerves like steel, steel

A trail of random cutlery
Cuts a dash in the concrete underpass
Sense of serenity is shattered
In the glint of splintered glass

Nerves, nerves, nerves, nerves
Nerves like nylon, nerves like steel
Nerves like nylon, nerves like steel
Nerves like nylon, nerves like steel

Nerves like nylon, nerves like steel, steel