What I'm really wanting, a brand new machine One for converting plastic to dreams If you ride upon the tiger you can never get off They get hungry One thing is certain, all the rest are lies Beautiful and damned ones never realize That the dark is light enough to see the ignorance of greed Still she cries Come on come on get up I want to take you Away from all of this and what has got you Lost and feeling down You just get it off your back, let it fly away Poetry of motion counting out the beats To hear a voice in every mind sounding out retreat And as they run they look behind to see what tempts the wandering eye Still she cries