| The flesh in your hands, the flesh in your command —
 | 
| It’s something you know, it’s something you can hold.
 | 
| The ring in your head, the ring in your sweat
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| On the street growing cold and colder.
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| Growing over, the great fading, the music playing.
 | 
| The flesh in your hand, the flesh in your command —
 | 
| It’s something you know, it’s something you can hold.
 | 
| The ring in your head, the ring in your sweat
 | 
| On the street growing cold and colder.
 | 
| Growing over the great fading, the music playing.
 | 
| Rob the accountant, stop the mountain,
 | 
| God save us, cut your wrist with paper.
 | 
| Count your days, and it’s only aging.
 | 
| Cash back and capture with a magnet.
 | 
| The heat is outside, the heat is on, you dropped the fire.
 | 
| It’s something you know, it’s something you can hold.
 | 
| The ring in your neck, the ring in your sweat on the sheets —
 | 
| It’s something you know, it’s something you can hold.
 | 
| The flesh in your hands,
 | 
| The flesh in your command.
 | 
| Growing cold and colder.
 | 
| Growing over, the great fading, the music playing.
 | 
| Your boy’s through waiting.
 | 
| Rob the accountant, stop the mountain,
 | 
| God save us, cut your wrist with paper.
 | 
| Count your days, and it’s only aging.
 | 
| Cash back and capture with a magnet.
 | 
| Rob the accountant, stop the mountain,
 | 
| God save us, cut your wrist with paper.
 | 
| Count your days and it’s only aging.
 | 
| Cash back and capture with a magnet. |