Lyrics Morricone Dancehall - Burning Airlines

Morricone Dancehall

Is this the body you were last found living in?
What you bury has a way of blossoming
All that bitterness in bloom on your skin
And the fiction cruelly continuing:
Slick surrogate to get to the bottom of everything
The detective sings
Bedridden in the far west wing
And all the aces are wired
And all forces conspire in this brutal bed
Without the body
There is no crime
Doctors all dance at your bedside now
No cure that medicine will allow
Shame!
Sexless and the air’s even belligerent
Counting down your senses
Sucking on cigarettes
Turning and burning on the spit where you spin
With the fiction cruelly continuing
Everything’s true when nobody is listening
The detective sings
Bedridden in the far west wing
And all the aces are wired
And all forces conspire in this brutal bed
Without the body
There is no crime
Heeled-up here
Unhealed
In twenty-to-fifty skin
Sealed up here
Some story that ends without loose ends
Doctors all dance at your bedside now
No cure that medicine will allow
Without the body
There is no crime
Without the body
There is no crime