And how often will we meet
How many games to play
How many slices will you eat
How many years anyway
And maybe Lenin wasn't right
And how long will it need
Till you'll lose your sapient sight
I'm so fucking scared
A room full of sounds
Close behind you
Behind you
Turn to the sounds
To the sounds
Close behind you
How many fishes will you feed
And how often we'll discuss
If Lenin wasn't right
And how long will it need
Till you'll lose your sapient sight
I'm so fucking scared
Clockwork, clockwork
Sitting on that front porch
Time is running
Holds my shoulder in doubt
Poetry of post war
Black holes under cold floors
When I was sitting
On that fucking front porch, front porch
Heavenly mindfuck stuff
Take a walk in the city of doubt
I need a cemetery passport
Pictures pale as sandstone
And i thought
I'm so fucking scared
I'm so fucking scared
I'm so fucking scared
I'm so fucking scared
And i'm so fucking scared
I'm so fucking scared
I'm so fucking scared
I'm so fucking scared
And i'm so fucking scared
And i'm so fucking scared
I'm so fucking scared
I'm so fucking scared
I'm so fucking scared
So fucking scared
And i'm so fucking scared
I'm so fucking scared
I'm so fucking scared
And i'm so fucking scared