She talks to her television.
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Changing channels with her mind.
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When this new world turns politic,
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she just slips in between their sighs.
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And we talk when the talking is good.
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Saying over and over.
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Maybe we should run.
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While the running is run down.
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I know forgiveness tastes like dry salt in your mouth.
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I temper all the alcohol with names that I don't say out loud.
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There's a cloud that hangs around my house.
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Electric signals, zeroes and ones.
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They accompany the Headline News with hairpin turns and domestic bombs.
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And I look when the looking is good.
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But I can't ever uncover.
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All the faces I turned away slowly turned into one another.
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I have made my decision to hang around inside.
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But I can't get to the places that I want to go from where I hide.
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Believe the path is round.
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Over and over.
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A peaceful underground.
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Hiding from the numbers.
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Believe in living cells.
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I know you're heavy bored.
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Belief in peace invents a man with a heart of gold.
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Peace don't betray me now.
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I'll find you out, in the empty corners of a restless mind.
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I have made my illusions bend.
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I bury them when I shut my eyes.
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I would hold hands, if holding was good.
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If it could hold us together.
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Zeroes and ones, zeroes and ones.
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Yes, your name's become a number.
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I have made my decision to hang around inside.
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But I can't get to the places that I want to go from where I hide.
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No, I'll never find the places that I want to go from where I hide.
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-----------------
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Zeroes And Ones
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| Seven Mary Three |
