|
Away to the side you move your head |
|
Gravity fingers dig in your back |
|
The strangest man won't let you breathe |
|
Rocking on you in a movie scene |
|
His words fill your mouth |
|
His guests bleed sick |
|
Devoid of touch |
|
He lets out to the streets where you were raised |
|
Sittin' home waiting for the coming age |
|
You had to wait your turn |
|
You had to wait your turn |
|
Wake up early, wash up late |
|
Satellites connect you to your hate |
|
Your patience grows but your skin is thin |
|
The pager signals they're coming in |
|
Through the hole in the wall |
|
You left a hole in the wall |
|
Here's to the atom bomb |
|
May everyone find a way to get on |
|
[?] seven is all you seek |
|
In the same old re-run week after week |
|
Their faces make you want to kill |
|
Their little piece of heaven singing on the window sill |
|
No lights can turn you on |
|
Pixelate the night |
|
Feed in the words |
|
Of your eyes on the streets where you were born |
|
Sittin' home waiting for the coming dawn |
|
You're the hole in the wall |
|
You left a hole in the wall |
