Text:
Yorke Thom

A tear in the membrane Allows the voices in They wanna push you off the path With their frequency wires And you can do no wrong In my eyes, in my eyes

A self-fulfilling prophecy Of endless possibility You roll in reams across the street In algebra, in algebra The fences that you cannot climb The sentences

Feeling pulled apart by horses Insect bytes, machine gun cameras Fobbed off with lame shit excuses I've no sons But I've no daughters Feeling pulled

Don't walk the plank like I did You will be dispensed with When you've become inconvenient Upon Harrowdown Hill Near where you used to go to school That

I'm in a skip divided malfunction I flap around and dive bomb Frantically around your light Enveloped in a sad distraction I got your voice repeating

Time is running out for us But you just move the hands upon the clock You throw coins in a wishing well, wake up You just move your hands upon the clock

you luv me (repeated multiple times) i luv ya (repeated multiple times) un souvenir de la rue? (repeated) i luv ya (repeated multiple times in two layers

this is a free seat which way you heading? you keep pushing and you keep pushing between the whipcrack and the moonbeams i said coachman where we heading

A self-fulfilling prophecy of endless possibility You roll in reams across the street In algebra, in algebra The fences that you cannot climb The sentences