The industry's out of touch
The means of production are now in the hands of the workers
But I still want to be guided by your expert hands
Oh, lay your expert hands on me

And I, I would listen while you played me through my fears
And I, I would whisper just to make you come near
And I'd watch every gesture while you play the kay with mirrors
Oh I, I want your hands here

The new millennium's tough
For some more than others a ridiculous understatement
But I still want to be gazed on by your ativan eyes
Oh, cast an eye upon me

'Cause I'd sit and write to you about all this and nothing
And I, I would give it all to give up all but one thing
And I'm so sick of cynics and I want something to trust in
Oh I, I want your eyes here

I feel danger growing
A storm's dropping branches in my path
Only danger where I'm going
Will you be a stranger when I get back?

We strive to survive causing least suffering possible
'The flux of pink indians', gave me words for that
But I still want your heart beating on mine
But, oh, have I been beating on your heart?

'Cause I, I would listen while you played me through my fears
And I, I would whisper just to make you come near
And I'd watch every gesture while you play the kay with mirrors
Oh I, I want your hands here

And I'd try and talk to you about all this and nothing
And I still give it all to give up all but just this one thing
And I'm so sick of cynics and I want something to trust in
Oh I, I want your eyes here, I want your eyes here
Ativan eyes, dear