| Whoa here she come,
|
| She got a loaded gun.
|
| And why I ain’t blown away,
|
| I don’t even know how.
|
| She got those acid eyes,
|
| Yet she claims I’m blind.
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| If I could love her still,
|
| I wouldn’t even try.
|
| Try to make a connection…
|
| To you.
|
| If it weren’t for some catastrophe,
|
| I don’t know where we’d be.
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| At the bottom at some salty sea,
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| Where the eels crack our bones.
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| If I could just step it up,
|
| We wouldn’t be in such a rut.
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| Saltly tears wet the cut,
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| Now there’s no way out.
|
| Try to make a connection…
|
| To you.
|
| Dig a hole in the earth.
|
| Dig a hole and we all fall through.
|
| Dig a hole in the earth.
|
| Dig a hole and we all fall through,
|
| And I hope I fall on you!
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| When we’re all blown to bits,
|
| She won’t be prone to fits.
|
| And the apocalypse,
|
| Will find its way through.
|
| The earth is a computer chip,
|
| From the window of my airship.
|
| And all I can say to her,
|
| Is why keep me around?
|
| Try to make a connection to you…
|
| To you…
|
| To you…
|
| To you…
|
| To you… |