Text: Beck. One Foot In The Grave. Forcefield.

Stand outside with a suitcase
(There's a forcefield round my neck)
Walk around all the while
(And it stands just where I sat)

Look at the people driving backwards
(And the stance I took on that)
No particular style
(Leaves that forcefield round my back)

Don't let it get near you
Don't let it get too close
Don't let it turn you into
(And the stance I took on that)
The things you hate the most
(Leaves a forcefield round my neck)

Roll out your silver-dollar coffins
Pull out your buckskin gloves
Tell them anything you want to
The sound comes from above

Don't let it get near you
Don't let it get too close
Don't let it turn you into
(And the stance I took on that)
The things you hate the most
(Leaves a forcefield round my neck)

Don't let it get near you
Don't let it get too close
Don't let it turn you into
The things you hate the most

There's a forcefield round my neck
And it stands just where I sat
And the stance I took on that
Leaves a forcefield round my neck

There's a forcefield round my neck
And it stands just where I sat
And the stance I took on that
Leaves a forcefield round my neck