1. |
Nerve and Vein
02:13
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Loud scars over racy pulses, laugh tracks over Luminol
A clock without a single tick, a life on cruise control
She lost her life in a game of high-stake charades
Web-thin mosquito limbs buried in the everglades (don't know you)
I did all the legwork when I found the liquor store
But now I need a kickstand and I can't find the door
It's everything, it's everything, in full swing
It's anyone, it's everyone, it's anyone, your favorite son (don't know you)
Polite as church ushers she's a dusty sawdust doll
A clock without a single tick, a knife through a bullet hole
She lost herself in a game of high stake charades
Web-thin mosquito limbs, remarried in a hurricane
What pulse or pause can automate their dreamless lives?
Cruelty as a reflex waives the real surprise
Wide awake in their hand-me-downs the kids chant a song about falling down
It's everything, it's everything, in full swing
It’s anyone, It's everyone, it's anyone, your backward son (don't know you)
Every nerve and vein
Every nerve and vein
Every nerve and vein
Every nerve and vein
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2. |
She's in Static
02:34
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Big talk from laddish man
That macho rubble man
He lost his temper he's a caveman in a traffic jam
Race me on the Autobahn
Talk me up when I'm gone
The cavalry is too far
I'll just play the piano as you leave now
Love over the CB radio
She's in the static jamming signals hidden in the noise
She likes the numerator
She's got critical aim
She turns our page
And flies combat class
Don't like to lose it
It's critical, man
And turn my page
Fly combat class
Big talk from laddish man
That macho rubble man
He lost his temper hit the pavement in a traffic jam
Talk me up when I'm gone
But don't wear my uniform
Your souvenir is a scowl
I'll just play the piano as you leave now
Love over the CB radio
He's a big man yeah yeah yeah he'll tell you so
She likes the numerator
She's got critical aim
She turns a page
And flies combat class
Don't like to lose it
It's critical, man
And turn my page
Fly combat class
Snitches and a rule of thumb
Your home an oil drum
Your voice a clicking pen
Typewriter in your head
The grapevine sells a myth
Confidante or therapist?
Whatcha mean you don't catch my drift?
I can play it out for you now
Love over the CB radio
She's in the static jamming signals hidden in the noise
She likes the numerator
She's got critical aim
She turns a page
And flies combat class
Good evening… from Captain Midnight
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