There's a dead man hanging,
Slumped over the steering wheel,
Of a innerstate runaway bursting into flames.
And the devil was gently breaving,
Sleeping face down in my apartment,
And like all his friends im growing tied of his games.
And theres a homeless man,
Arranging his hands,
Screaming to the beat radiating from a poly scanner,
And the air was feeling good to me,
As cool and ripe as air can be,
And a woman who sincerely believes in UFO's,
Who can blame her when the stars are hanging overhead,
Dangled by a thread floating ten thousand feet off the ground.
This was a story told to me when i was just the age 17,
One which god himself dictated said, this is how all the s**** gonna be,
When i blow your little planet into smithereens,
Blow your little planet into smithereens
Went on in my dreams
Like an accident on replay on a tv screen
She sees s***es in her dreams,
Strange machines, she'd never seen,
Blue prints of submarines to reassemble an atomped irony
And there were preachers in the desert,
Waving to the crowd,
Dictating seven angry letters,
From a man up in the clouds.
And there were 27 solders telling 27 lies,
And a hole inside a hurricane,
With a pair of beady eyes,
A pair of beady eyes,
Looking down onto the pavement while the stars are gavered around
Because they all want a front seat when s*** stars going down,
Because the sun is just a supernova turned the other way around.
There were strangers in the subway,
And men in limousines making deals and swapping photographs of cans of gasoline,
There are no angels in the wood work,
Or devils underground,
They're looking though a hurricane,
Tectonic wall of a sound
And the man that smokes a cigerette the other way around,
Shes looking in behind him though from a wall of sound,
And shes dancing with the neon,
Cause the air is feeling good against her arms and legs and finger tips are measuring the distance of the s***es in between,
Voiding all your friends,
When theres no time for a weapon,
No time to make amens,
And people frozen in there tracks,
And they're staring at the sky,
At a hole inside a hurricane,
Reveiling a pair of beady eyes,
A pair of beady eyes,
Looking down,
Onto the pavement while the stars are gavered round,
Cause they all wanted front seats,
When s*** starts going down,
Because the sun is just a supernova,
Turned the other way around.
This is not a test this is the real thing...x2
Slumped over the steering wheel,
Of a innerstate runaway bursting into flames.
And the devil was gently breaving,
Sleeping face down in my apartment,
And like all his friends im growing tied of his games.
And theres a homeless man,
Arranging his hands,
Screaming to the beat radiating from a poly scanner,
And the air was feeling good to me,
As cool and ripe as air can be,
And a woman who sincerely believes in UFO's,
Who can blame her when the stars are hanging overhead,
Dangled by a thread floating ten thousand feet off the ground.
This was a story told to me when i was just the age 17,
One which god himself dictated said, this is how all the s**** gonna be,
When i blow your little planet into smithereens,
Blow your little planet into smithereens
Went on in my dreams
Like an accident on replay on a tv screen
She sees s***es in her dreams,
Strange machines, she'd never seen,
Blue prints of submarines to reassemble an atomped irony
And there were preachers in the desert,
Waving to the crowd,
Dictating seven angry letters,
From a man up in the clouds.
And there were 27 solders telling 27 lies,
And a hole inside a hurricane,
With a pair of beady eyes,
A pair of beady eyes,
Looking down onto the pavement while the stars are gavered around
Because they all want a front seat when s*** stars going down,
Because the sun is just a supernova turned the other way around.
There were strangers in the subway,
And men in limousines making deals and swapping photographs of cans of gasoline,
There are no angels in the wood work,
Or devils underground,
They're looking though a hurricane,
Tectonic wall of a sound
And the man that smokes a cigerette the other way around,
Shes looking in behind him though from a wall of sound,
And shes dancing with the neon,
Cause the air is feeling good against her arms and legs and finger tips are measuring the distance of the s***es in between,
Voiding all your friends,
When theres no time for a weapon,
No time to make amens,
And people frozen in there tracks,
And they're staring at the sky,
At a hole inside a hurricane,
Reveiling a pair of beady eyes,
A pair of beady eyes,
Looking down,
Onto the pavement while the stars are gavered round,
Cause they all wanted front seats,
When s*** starts going down,
Because the sun is just a supernova,
Turned the other way around.
This is not a test this is the real thing...x2