|
We hear the dealers with the words |
|
That ride the tails |
|
Of their cigarette smoke |
|
Sliding through the tunnels of our ears |
|
Those greasy marionettes |
|
Of real bone and blood |
|
Stand on the corner of |
|
Washington |
|
Square, Washington |
|
SquareWell, our vision was stinging |
|
And our eyes were blurring |
|
Elevator's got you rising so high |
|
Seventeen floors, you want so much more |
|
Elevator's got you rising so high |
|
Seventeen floors, you want so much more |
|
And there's lightning on the ceiling |
|
Coming from the corner of her eye |
|
And there's lightning on the ceiling |
|
Coming from the corner of her eye |
|
Somewhere horses flee from thunder |
|
Somewhere the bones of a cat |
|
Are buried under a garden, yeah |
|
Well there's a radio on |
|
Broken song, empty digression |
|
It won't be long |
|
Won't be long to you and me |
|
Are gone from here |
|
And there's lightning on the ceiling |
|
Coming from the corner of her eye |
|
And there's lightning on the ceiling |
|
Coming from the corner of her eye |
|
We hear the dealers with the words |
|
That ride the tails |
|
Of their cigarette smoke |
|
Sliding through the tunnels of our ears |
|
Those greasy marionettes |
|
Of real bone and blood |
|
Stand on the corner of |
|
Washington, |
|
Washington, |
|
Washington |
|
SquareWell, our vision was stinging |
|
And our eyes were blurring, yeah |
