When you wake up
And feel everything is over;
Here are sweet teardrops for breakfast
And even a gla** of milk looks black
In this 2x100 relay
I'm not ready to pick up the baton
How sweet would be another road accident
Together on the southern highway
They whisper my name, I have to go there;
I wear worn out stripes like a contrail
This isn't the sound of heavy hail
These are the knocks of pa**ing souls
When you run out of time
And feel this is the last time
You're embracing your best friend
A father, a son and a holy ghost
My real being is the one of a tyke
So fragile, unstitched percale
This isn't the sound of heavy hail
These are the beaks of the masked shrikes
In this 2x100 relay
I'm not ready to pick up the baton
This isn't the sound of heavy hail
These are the knocks of pa**ing souls
We wanted to make another road accident
Together on the southern highway
This isn't the sound of heavy hail
These are the beaks of the masked shrikes