The city's drowning in the vicious, cruel, maddening heat My melting body's sinking into the streets I repeat The same routine to force myself to move my wavering feet There comes a point when love becomes obsolete And I believe that that is it Somewhere down the line my tender heart has turned to lead And even if I get to meet you one final time I'd rather it be on your deathbed I'm sorry, officer, these days you often run out of chalk I'll interlock my hands and eagerly walk I'll make this molten body move And keep my cravings buried deep and on lock That's what I'd want, but an electrical shock Runs through my body as I fall I'm sorry, little brother I try so hard, but I just can't remember your name I wonder at what point one man became another Well in the end, though, I guess To your withering brain it's all the same The pavement dissolves under the blinding summer Sun The city's slowly vaporising These iron bindings come undone Oh please, remember, dear mother, was it Samara 1921? The memory of when the mountain of the twentieth century pinned us down Let us march to the beat, drag your feet, the red's calling Let go of your greed, plant your seed, the water's flowing, flowing My stomach turns and I reach out just to hold you one last time, my blood is boiling This burning air is taking shape, around my throat its heavy arms are coiling, coiling Aah Somewhere down the line my tender heart has turned to lead And even if I get to meet you one final time I'd rather it be on your deathbed Oh please, remember, dear mother, was it Samara 1921? The memory of when the mountain of the twentieth century pinned us down