Eletric Lights
The Flats
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
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
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