The Industry's out of touch The means of production are now in the hands of the workers But I still want to guided by your expert hands Oh, lay your expert hands on me And I, I would listen while you played me through my fears And I, I would whisper just to make you come near And I'd watch every gesture while you play the Kay mirrors Oh I, I want your hands here The new millennium's tough For some more than others--a ridiculous understatement But I still want to be gazed on by your Ativan eyes Oh, cast an eye upon me 'Cause I'd sit and write to you about all this and nothing And I, I would give it all to give up all but one thing And I'm so sick of cynics and I want something to trust in Oh I, I want your eyes here I feel danger growing A storm's dropping branches in my path Only danger where I'm going Will you be a stranger when I get back? We "strive to survive causing least suffering possible" The Flux of Pink Indians gave me words for that! And I still want your heart beating on mine But, oh, have I been beating on your heart? And I, I would listen while you played me through my fears And I, I would whisper just to make you come near And I'd watch every gesture while you play the Kay mirrors Oh I, I want your hands here 'Cause I'd drive and talk to you about all this and nothing And I'd still give it all to give up all but just this one thing And I'm so sick of cynics and I want something to trust in Oh I, I want your eyes here Ativan Eyes, Dear