|
I let go a spider onto a ledge |
|
I guess he's got wires |
|
And I hope he's still got his legs |
|
I use mine all up and I need my disease |
|
I pick at it and I peel away |
|
More resilient with scar tissue every day |
|
I run and it hunts me down |
|
They said I should make her a friend |
|
But a friend like that |
|
Will kill her in the end |
|
So have you got anything new? |
|
Well, yes, I've got some new cement boots |
|
Clouds are lashing across my face |
|
Falling with the grace of granite in yesterday's gales |
|
I run and it hunts me down |
|
They said I should make her a friend |
|
But a friend like that |
|
Will kill her in the end |
|
Needle and pins |
|
Still I can't feel a thing |
|
From the waist down |
|
Needle and pins |
|
Said I can't reach my limbs |
|
As the plane came down |
|
Internal wiring of the house fails |
|
She'll blow away in yesterday's gales |
|
Voices cacophony, inside, outside |
|
Down the plug hole, suicide |
|
I run and it hunts me down |
|
They said I should make her a friend |
|
But a friend like that |
|
Will kill her in the end |
|
Needle and pins |
|
Still I can't feel a thing |
|
From the waist down |
|
Needle and pins |
|
Said I can't reach my limbs |
|
As the plane came down |
|
I let go a spider onto a ledge |
|
I guess he's got wires |
|
And I hope he's still got his legs |
