Text: Forward, Russia. Thirteen.

Choose life

We all can lean on figures and crutches
It's such an easy thing to do when you're so unaware
We all can change our tegument's function
Replace the outer shell with something more neoteric
We all can lean on figures and crutches
A busy wife-child losing all her selfish memory
Will only lean on figures and crutches
Become a child and plastic surgeon

Let her go
Yelled the occupied pharaohs
A lucky soul
Who just so happened to break out

She took the corner way
And in the event of that the normal result should fail...

If you won't blink at me, I'm coming
If you want to be something new, I'm coming
If you won't blink at me, I'm coming
And I won't breathe at all
Until you blink at me, I'm coming
If you want to be something new, I'm coming
If you won't blink at me, I'm coming
And I won't breathe until

We all can lean on figures and crutches
The politburos will expect their free lunches
And all the prison guards rely on their hunches
But we're assured of the existence of a better way:
We all can lean on figures and crutches
Replace our hearts

And if you won't blink at me, I'm coming
If you want to be something new, I'm coming
If you won't blink at me, I'm coming
And I won't breathe at all
Until you blink at me, I'm coming
If you want to be something new, I'm coming
If you won't blink at me, I'm coming
And I won't breathe until
You're strolling down the pavement

If you won't blink at me, I'm coming
If you want to be something new, I'm coming
If you won't blink at me, I'm coming
And I won't breathe at all
Until you blink at me, I'm coming
If you want to be something new, I'm coming
If you won't blink at me, I'm coming
And I won't breathe at all