| Man without a rudder is ruled by the sea
|
| Lost all anchors somewhere in the deep
|
| Lover of machines-adrift in schemes
|
| Cast his lot among rootless thieves
|
| Nightlife swings in the gateway towns
|
| But out here in the inches there’s a ship going down
|
| The sailor keeps swallowing siren smoke
|
| Dreaming of a kiss, just beyond the choke
|
| These strange nights and days-
|
| These numbers taking our names
|
| Cool this madness down
|
| Sop it right on time
|
| Got one last chance better cool itdown
|
| Before it takes our life
|
| Man without bearings straggles in the wood
|
| Counting on the wolf to forget about blood
|
| Stacking up blocks for the god of numbers
|
| Playing slow pitch with the angels of slumber
|
| Now he is alone with the things he made
|
| Shaking n the afterburn arcade
|
| Games distract but they don’t appease
|
| What they attract they will not release
|
| These strange nights and days-
|
| These numbers taking out names
|
| Cool this madness down
|
| Dance in a redemption town
|
| Chant down desolation
|
| Conscius movement come
|
| Cool this madness down |