Magnetic heads scraping against a roll of tape. It's wonderful. Get down with the sickness. Comes with all lyrics, and what the hell, let's say a sticker.
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I said I will take time, it will make things get clearer when I see her.
Inverted cross looks real nice, sticking out through spring ice.
I see a tree made of lights, even the devil says
"That shit looks tight".
There hiding and we're sorry, I thought this was string theory.
The message is a warning, calling out for a better story.
Five pointed star, you are true. Space is made of you.
With both hands clasped so tight,
spinning out like white light in to black night.
The true names of wind and rain are lost to far to explain
And my hand expand, growing trees from cold land.
Inverted cross looks way tight spinning across black sky,
And the stars all alight.
Even the devil says,
"It's gonna be fine."