| Dark shadows on a window screen
|
| Are flickering like a dream machine
|
| We’re Driving where the air is a ghost
|
| The sky, the book, its circuitry
|
| Is playing with astrology
|
| Its breathing and calling me
|
| Oh, where the river goes
|
| The human air it looks like it flows
|
| And every turmoil must be born
|
| I love the shelter but I need the storm
|
| Oh, when I’m in between
|
| Where I once was and where I need to be
|
| I hear a phantom stereo
|
| The stations tuned to
|
| Scorpio
|
| Scorpio, you had me at first glance
|
| I do believe in chance
|
| Despite what they’re saying
|
| Scorpio, the blinds are always drawn
|
| There’s still another song
|
| So don’t you go saying
|
| Scorpio
|
| Waking up at dawn
|
| The room is not yet bright
|
| Beside me she’s asleep
|
| My heart is filled with sorrow
|
| What I wouldn’t do
|
| To lie before a grace
|
| If only it would place
|
| Its love upon my shoulder
|
| Oh, where the river goes
|
| The human air the psychic flow
|
| And every turmoil must be born
|
| I love the shelter but I need the storm
|
| Oh, when I’m in between
|
| Where I once was and where I need to be
|
| I hear a phantom stereo
|
| The stations tuned to
|
| Scorpio
|
| Scorpio, you had me at first glance
|
| I do believe in chance
|
| Despite what they’re saying
|
| Scorpio, the blinds are always drawn
|
| There’s still another song
|
| So don’t you go saying
|
| Scorpio
|
| Scorpio
|
| Scorpio |