Eletric Lights
The Flats
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If static is just forming some chords in some walls
I am static without the ends
And every breath of hers was a thorn of desire
And every petal was blushing red
It's on my fingertips
And my electric light's becoming electric again
A New Years harvesting in Elysium fields
And everyone is up on the shore
They're taking you again, again and again
My friend they can take no more
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It's on my fingertips
And my electric light's becoming electric again
A New Years harvesting in Elysium fields
And everyone is up on the shore
It's on my fingertips
And my electric light's becoming electric again