I don't mind the sound Of a voice Of your voice When you use it like your gun So much fun Fire your gun Casual as you are, gets hard to say I won't say 'Less you're going away He's stringing himself on up to your front door You've been a wall of ideas about the rich and the poor With his car horn talk, you make your focus break When you're left to yourself you're going anyway I don't differentiate We from they We from they Feel my appetite Wild light Sleepless night Lean my head against an angry moon Always room Angry moon In and out of a metal chair In an unloved apartment where I can build myself up before I make the scare String myself up onto your front door Street joy You adore