What I'm really wanting, a brand new machine
One for converting plastic to dreams
If you ride upon the tiger you can never get off
They get hungry

One thing is certain, all the rest are lies
Beautiful and damned ones never realize
That the dark is light enough to see the ignorance of greed
Still she cries

Come on come on get up I want to take you
Away from all of this and what has got you Lost and feeling down
You just get it off your back, let it fly away

Poetry of motion counting out the beats
To hear a voice in every mind sounding out retreat
And as they run they look behind to see what tempts the wandering eye
Still she cries