Lyrics

A copper's nark... The cautious talk of a city under suspicion A perfumed collision... With the real meaning of a girl Working in the dark... from the velvet shadows... In the... black-wood of engines YOU'RE in suspension... In the best of all possible worlds Furnished rooms... In tune... with the frozen taste of money A broken television Flickers in the corner of one eye A variety show That goes below......the freezing point of numbers To understand.....an episode Of a dream that money can buy When a necromancer's crucifix.... And fifty dead assistants... A beer by a dried UP fountain It's the festival of the spoons: whatever that is TWO scrumpets dance with rainbow feathers... On the lines of least resistance... Into the middle distance... Of a supermarket tune Familiar ground.... He stops her breath with the sneak-thief kiss of a roscoe Love letters from Moscow Calling for the hard-ware of surprise In a jealous town... Where desperation... Isn't worth the trouble Meet your double....in an episode... Of a dream that money can buy Bye bye love Say goodnight irene: to the magnetism of the MOMENT The future fails to feature Beyond the forcefields of their eyes Decadant waves: Depraved Danger Or a plaything of the rodents Not quite the kind of creature With whom they socialise