My spine is the bassline, and the top line could be broken glass all amusing views of those better men dirty habits' hand on the purses' strings
Quiet fear of the passing time gently magnify the dividing line all this history could be blown away on a breath of lust
Trajectory, synchronicity, how the choice is made with a fresh resolve jamming tight up to the barrier down a string of nerves so these feelings go
My spine is the bassline and the top line is the distant past all that history, all those books have gone they've been blown away on a breath of lust
No Guts, No Blood: No Brains At All (repeat 4X)
(spoken) He can rip out the chassis and gearbox, could replace it with the neck and the chest He can feel it in the back of the ribcage, he can kick it 'til it gets in the sense He's been thinking about dying in public, he's been tensing up his arms and his legs He can have you home in a heap in a heartbeat, He'll go messing with the Civil Defense There's no joy in the squander of resource, there's more passion in the pump of a plug, he can leave you at the club with the cashbox, he can push you at the pressure above (repeat, and fade)