your mouth fell out of the sky and suddenly i had it memorized but honestly, it's like you're dead i can't shake off voodoo or your thudding making noise the pearls you cast before swine make you seem alive a pretty picture of you breathing air and you're just standing there static show me how you do it a thousand miles away from here you're one micron away from me your hope is on the wing is on a bus tearing down the road
you're cold you're made of heat you're made of skin, made of cloth and bone your hope is on the wing is on a bus tearing down the road (your road is in the dark is in the sun, in the rain and cold) you're cold you're made of heat you're made of skin, made of cloth and bone (your bones are made of sponge are made of plexigla**, tin and hope)