The innocence of sleeping children. Dressed in white and slowly dreaming. Stops all time. I slow my steps and start to blur. So many years have filled my heart.
A hand in my mouth. A hand in my mouth. A life spills into the flowers. A life spills into the flowers. We all look so perfect. We all look so perfect.
It's not a case of doing what's right. It's just the way I feel that matters. Tell me I'm wrong. I don't really care. It's not a case of share and share alike.
Plastic passion is a hard to handle. Plastic passion is a sold out scandal. Oh it's a plastic passion. It's a plastic passion. Plastic passion is the ladies lover.
Electric line, racing time. Fire down the wall. Spinning around, the killing ground. It makes you look so small. . Henna years, the stinging tears. Flesh on the railway track.
Shapes in the drink like Christ. Cracks in the pale blue wall. I'm walking slowly and quickly but always away. I'm twisting twisting to the floor. . Flowers in your mouth and the same dry song.