guilty pleasures twist their faces
it's night alone technicolor elves mirror eyes in corners
angles maneuvers shapes a girl who hacked your myspace
elude the tetrahedron distance self from the swerving clouds
the promise of paradise now reflected in the solar billboards
your etiquette and your large portions your exploding humility
you're keeping your options open contrary to promises
you're working in the mine just like the last husband
who'd lost his self swallowed up by the corridor's dark percolator
it was another language called outerspace it was the twilight zone
in wisconsin and we model before the moon our melancholy rags
like we're illegal taken up residence in a hostel her face
her lips the words were falling to the world incriminating
watch the chimneys pipe up out of our way static static
i never turned the radio on it must've been from on high