You've narrowed it down to pictures of memory You've narrowed it down to dots on a screen You've narrowed it down to the few or the many You've narrowed
as roadkill On the northbound carriageway And who's gonna raise a hand When all we were taught to do is dance Who'll be able to stand after this avalanche
There's dirt in the machine, yeah, where there's oxygen there's rust A thousand eyes are blinking to drown a tiny speck of dust No, I'm not after crashing
Headstrong, heavy weather Going at it Hell-for-leather Red lights flashing on Some little pop song Boys get out your Balzac The Empire's gonna strike
I love you like a whisper I love you all alone I love you like a murder, babe I'm burying the bones I love you like the last shot At the bottom of the
Up in the midnight blue, That's where I'm going to Up where the sirens' scream Through every misplaced dream Up with the Pirate Moon In bloody monochrome
Through the iron winter to the fires of June Through the five o'clock skyline to the deeadlocked moon There's a flickering figure dancing alone Making
They found sixth-form poetry scrawled on the walls on your old bedroom And Friday night is going to free-fall, through Club Rust, angel dust and
Don't stop singing; it's a beautiful sound I'll get the drinks in before we hit the ground And I don't know who'll speak first It doesn't matter anyway
