Now, I've got pins and needles on my tongue, anticipating what's to come, like a finger on a loaded gun

The drought was the very worst, when the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst

We don't know why we do what we do, but we do

Fashion is on the streets

 

 

I'm listening sad songs, singing about love where it goes wrong

No drama, no time for games

A hundred and five little blades in a line from your skin to mine, and I feel it

Jet planes, islands, tigers on a gold leash, we don't care

Finally your time has come, now's my chance to turn and run like I always do

Rock me, pretty baby, rock me 'til everything gets real, rock me for a little while, rock me 'til there's nothing left to feel, and I'll rock you too