كلمات Winslow

Raven found herself a skinny skin stiletto In the middle of a crowd she needs a number Fabricating passion for her painted fellows In the middle of a crowd she needs a lover I want to know... Why are we breaking bottles when this well is running dry? Drunk on aerosol shithole paradise Keep them guessing Make them sweat it out all at once We've always been I think I'm better than them Spirits thick as thieves the building speaks in riddles In the middle of a crowd it needs a number Sharpening its teeth the spirits weeping widows In the middle of a crowd there are no others I want to know... Why are we breaking bottles when this well is running dry? It's the great subliminal entertainment device With teeth, building living ghosts Be calm, be calm, you riders on the storm See it for the shadowbox cannibal dance distraction See it for the tired smoke-and-mirror display See it for the crimson neon stained glass refraction See it for what it is, not what you want it to be Leave a little leather-bound miranda in the Doorway so she won't say a thing Make a little miserable scene out of her I thought we were I thought we had gone Oh - spare the din your chloroform refrain Pack away those old euphoria grenades Look at all of them reaching, look at all those hands Pulling, grabbing, pushing in the interest Of an understanding wasteland Winslow! Oh, winslow... Don't look away now!