They’re throwing people on the backs of trucks
Then they drive them to the edge of town
Where they make them dye their hair jet black
And they push them in a club of sound
Where they play un-american charts
And there’s no chance of going home alone
You’re as likely as a headache
And everybody knows
You’ve taken off your clothes once before
Still you think that you’re a nightingale
Because you wanna sing the songs of night
But the strings that you’re connected to
Have got you trapped in this car crash tight
When you’re cruising home an hour from now
All the djs have all gone to bed
You’re as smashed up as a heartache
Its obvious to me
You’ve taken off your clothes once before
Got another bad connection
Growing in my mind
Got a nervous feeling
That I might be right this time
It’s just a touch of light that’s at the end of the night
Splitting into fractions
Take solace heavens
We are smaller than the night
Details, captured in a photograph
Looked upon by NASA
Trying to find a brand, new moon
And everybody feels
Anticipation grows
As week ends