Through all the circuitry we'll find time Symmetrical moments in mind Those eyes begin to think Styrofoam magic marker moons or tombs Superglue all your pretty wounds Though I begin to drink
Milk from a dead end star, astro-physically out of shape Waking up the metal mercenary, suffocating in the room outside Paper mache manawar-lords of course Plastic champagne and sliding doors Those eyes begin to think
Planetal targets in my mind, sometimes Losing perspective on my kind Though I begin to drink Milk from a dead end star, astro-physically out of shape Have you met the jewel architect, he's burning slowly in the room outside
