innocents In the middle of hell Everybody remains Shoot against the wall Non-expression power From world?s tv Come up faking cowards Down the jokers
(feat. Chargepartnaz, C-Roc (Tommy Wright III)) [Chorus: x2] Too nationwide to be local goin' worldwide wid my vocals Comin' up on you bitches while
Meet me by the key-light moon in the park They've got their clothes and their diet conscience But are they art? Riot squad, the old mod, his perfume
I'm gonna haunt you I'm gonna haunt you Through the playgrounds Through the fires You'll be saluting at the stars And I'll be holding your hand I'm
We are late like a midnight train that?s running nowhere We are sticks we are stones we are broken bones we are hot air We are under the guillotine trying
Did you really believe It would be A different voice it Inevitably Will all come down to one of two choices So come on now we've got our sides to pick
Enter my November Boy With eyes like the sea The radio sings "Love Me Do" Yeah I agree And I've used up Every sentence that Love has to offer So silence
Kerosene Kathy is bringing in the mail Its a 50/50 choice Pass go or go to jail You can see her with her matches on the pavement in the rain Glowing
Propped my eyes open with some chemistry I've got a three hour drive and a man to see The blue bruised sky is closing in Cover up well because it looks
Could you say that again babe I've not heard that one before You're looking four years older You're looking for the door I lipsticked "Fuck You" on the
Strip the sky I will hang out of the window See its pink veneer Hear the motorway soprano And the Front Street road pitches to the river bank The drivers
Hey now my red clouds're rolling in To catalogue and number every stone cold dream And I've seen Sal thumbing his way up to the stars I've seen angels
This Girl is a stencil of a brushstroke in the rain She?s a ghost of the city she?s a body through the windscreen This girl is the snowfall where the
I came in like a jackdaw On the drift of an outlaw I heard there's a warrant out For my arrest Among the cute little puritans The ghosts and the hooligans
Tell me Are you really leaving? I fell so far I'm almost on the ceiling You said I've got a way with words I'm not so sure But baby I know I got away
Meet me by the key-light moon in the park They've got their clothes and their diet conscience, but are they art? Riot squad, the old mod, his perfume
Sat down with the poker face The snake eyes and your pillowcase The hands holding the triple ace Are laying down the cards She said it without sentiment
