| In the circuit
|
| The frequency"s breaking up The speakers can barely move
|
| This is not a test
|
| Tune to the broadcast
|
| Witness the jetlag
|
| Look in the mirror
|
| Adjust the V-hold
|
| Shatter the lens
|
| Pull out the shards
|
| Choke on her words
|
| Caught in your throat
|
| How long can the wheels maintain a spin at this velocity?
|
| On every block, a reminder:
|
| You can"t stop this intersection
|
| At every turn
|
| Dead forests of tenements rise like antennas
|
| The miles are adding up and the days are counting down
|
| Cut the jet black from my hair
|
| Before we"re bathed in the dawn of New Year"s Day
|
| I will change back to myself in the glame
|
| We burn like the paper hearts of dead presidents
|
| We"re too lost to lose hope
|
| Maybe the night seems so dark because the day is much too bright
|
| For us to see that we are cured
|
| Shatter the lens
|
| Pull out the shards
|
| We are cured
|
| Choke on her words
|
| Caught in your throat
|
| That"s the sound of music from another room
|
| The piano player hangs from piano wire
|
| But the player piano carries on Sit back and tune to the broadcast
|
| This is not a test
|
| Shatter the lens
|
| Pull out the shards
|
| Choke on her words
|
| Caught in your throat
|
| As the language dissolves
|
| And the sentence lifts
|
| A slow alphabet of rain is whispering
|
| «aabcttipacbdefg…»
|
| Since I replaced the «I"in live with an «O»
|
| I can"t remember who you are
|
| But tomorrow I"ll be you
|
| Just pick up the phone
|
| I"m calling from your house
|
| In your room
|
| In your name
|
| Lying in your bed
|
| Following your dreams
|
| I listen to your voice get caught in my throat
|
| As I sing
|
| «This is just a dream"on New Year"s Day
|
| We will change back to ourselves
|
| In the flame we are cured
|
| We are cured
|
| We are cured… |