In the undertow. of a muddy river's ebb and flow. is a hand that will not let go. the current is strong. the river is deep. . In the afterglow. of the fire that tore through the room below.
She's the face on the radio. She's the body on the morning show. She's there shaking it out on the scene. And she's the colour of a magazine. . And she's in fashion.
We got a love that's cold as stone. We got a love from our violent homes. We got a love and it got no name. . We kiss our love with lips like pain. We got a lotta electricity.