| where are we? |
| what the hell is going on? |
| the dust has only just begun to form |
| crop circles in the carpet |
| sinking feeling |
| spin me round again |
| and rub my eyes, |
| this can’t be happening |
| when busy streets a mess with people |
| would stop to hold their heads — heavy |
| hide and seek |
| trains and sewing machines |
| all those years |
| they were here first |
| oily marks appear on walls |
| where pleasure moments hung before the takeover, |
| the sweeping insensitivity of this still life |
| hide and seek |
| trains and oh, you won’t catch me around here |
| blood and tears |
| they were here first |
| Mmmm whacha say, |
| Mmmm that you only meant well? |
| well of course you did |
| Mmmm whacha say, |
| Mmmm that its all for the best? |
| well of course it is |
| Mmmm whacha say? |
| Mmmm that it’s just what we need |
| you decided this |
| whacha say? |
| Mmmm what did she say? |
| ransom notes keep falling out your mouth |
| mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs |
| speak no feeling no i don’t believe you |
| you don’t care a bit, |
| you don’t care a bit |
| (hide and seek) |
| ransom notes keep falling out your mouth |
| mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs |
| (hide and seek) |
| speak no feeling no i don’t believe you |
| you don’t care a bit, |
| you don’t care a bit |