I've got myself a widget. A gizmo with wires and Martian intent, yeah. Strange face of beauty. That's my machine. . It blinks and stares right at me. Sees nothin' but in its wires.
I see the scars of action. Writhing round your face. Too much inactivity. And home's a lonely place. . Throw away your beauty. 'Cos you know that it won't last.
These are the pictures these are the feelin's from the frontline. Living in silence feeling the deafness like heavy smoke. Smiling with strangers counting the days like a spring coiled up inside.
I will not accept the truth. I will not accept the truth. I will not accept the truth. That I'll never get there. Never get there, yeah, yeah. . I must not push forward, no.