| Take the time to count the cracks and lines in the four walls
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| The cell that follows you wherever you go
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| And the black swans
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| Now the only chance is here and the motorway looks clear
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| The cells are ticking and the spine is ready to kick in
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| All wrapped up and tied up little demons sing us what we don’t know
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| With the industry in place we can hold out for a while
|
| It is the singer in the river is the siren on the rock
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| Before the time you wake up feeling nothing at all
|
| It is the singer in the river is the siren on the rock
|
| Before the time you’re washed up feeling nothing at all
|
| They’re covered in feathers and they look so good in the sunlight
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| It’s only the sawdust trickling from their sleeves that you’ll notice
|
| With the industry in place we can look the other way
|
| It is the singer in the river is the siren on the rock
|
| Before the time you wake up feeling nothing at all
|
| It is the singer in the river is the siren on the rock
|
| Before the time you’re washed up feeling nothing at all
|
| It is the singer in the river is the siren on the rock
|
| Before the time you wake up feeling nothing at all
|
| It is the singer in the river is the siren on the rock
|
| Before the time you’re washed up feeling nothing at all
|
| It is the singer in the river is the siren on the rock
|
| Before the time you wake up feeling nothing at all
|
| It is the singer in the river is the siren on the rock
|
| Before the time you’re washed up feeling nothing at all |