Looking for that yellow wall
Got to find a place for headroom
My body feels abused
The dull bass vibrates loosely
We are jaded from our elegance

Talking to the whistling kettle
The shade needs to be right
Replacing replica files
No longer reachable by telephone
Everyone gets a prize for getting it wrong

Renewed my magazine subscription
I only ever look at the photos
Of course you're right I said
Feeling like I've lived underground forever
Half time and a clash of mania instills

Hearing the sound of the big cheese
Seeing how the crow flies
I apply my war paint to one side
Molecules skim past my eyes
Detached from my surroundings

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