Algebra Suicide - Recalling the Last Encounter lyrics

There is an anemic embrace on the street A kiss is thrown, meets another, drops to the sidewalk and goes for a tumble You warn of tight clouds that wriggle like armyworms A form of algebra suicide, I guess. I want to telephone the sailors Curse their songs of gasoline as the light in the booth turns me hideous I want to become hydraulic. Hit the newsstands, national exposure Feel the world crawl into me through the fingers as the traffic outside locks, stops, and goes soft I want to talk about milk, about the invisible bones of the face About this brain that sits too close to the skin While I hear you tell me we could be chainsaws under the stars Under what stars?