| I’m analogue, an empty cassette shell,
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| My spinning spools, are feeding your eyes,
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| I’m attic bound, an empty cassette shell.
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| I make a sound with mono connection,
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| The needle’s down on the groove in your eyes.
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| You’ll now accept the rules, accept the rejection.
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| An understanding that we were certain of,
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| There’s a tasteless relief about escape.
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| I know you can develop if you take the chance,
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| To feel nothing… I feel nothing.
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| Video 8, I wonder if our luck will ever change?
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| God knows we need a change!
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| I’m broadcast on a thinning signal,
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| A sunken mast of telegraph wires.
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| So I reject the rules, coz I’ve had a skin-full.
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| A test card, a symbol of nothing.
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| A silent guard, patrolling your eyes,
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| In the empty cell, of an empty cassette shell.
|
| An understanding that we were certain of,
|
| There’s a tasteless relief about escape.
|
| I know you can develop if you take the chance,
|
| To feel nothing… I feel nothing.
|
| Video 8, I wonder if our luck will ever change?
|
| God knows we need a change!
|
| Video 8…
|
| God knows we need a change!
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| Video 8, I wonder if our luck will ever change?
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| God knows we need a change! |