Any more tears for the perfect? Pulled by his chart directly into misery Kiss him in the face with no lips and no tongue But with your little, middle, index and ring fingers Singing I see songs in shapes and colours Like nuclear physics or pottery ovens Fluid lines that soar like towers Patterns that form just like child actors
Put your hand right by my spine (?) Replace it with a UV light So I can be the beacon of hope that you'd always expected
These constant broken heartbeats sound like breakbeats They beat round and round to me You know he's so much more like Spiderman than you will ever, ever be
So stick with your instincts Stick with the imprints With the hieroglyphics that the fan club sent us A roll with the toppers The sly steady choppers Bat it with your eyelids And lose it with your static Go b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b - hey! I'm taking far too many chances On these less than idealistic romances
Put your hand right by my spine Replace it with a UV light So I can be the beacon of hope that you'd always expected
These constant broken heartbeats sound like breakbeats They beat round and round to me You know he's so much more like Spiderman than you will ever, ever be.