Lyrics

On this train is a body I can't read Superstition, the blood is staring from the eyes, the mass is sinking There will be no- in the feeling There will be no- in the feeling The cup is being drained and filled I dreaded, I dreaded Every art is tired Every head is leaded The figures Of a figure I'm thinking The dancing coins will automate me A darkness type of feeling The body The body's up on feelings Drinking the artificial world through a straw With an artificial body made of promises There will be the self sucking There will be the car crashes There will be the death row dreams There will be another day for you Breaking it to leave it It's a kind of fever The blinding sea below Eating the morning light Face up Watching Thinking Just about another fuck who took the sound Who made the sound unbound The DJ of unknown Can I explain? A game of stop and go A game of provenance We'll struggle together We'll struggle together