There's no sense in talking music, no of sex can be done I mean, the abstraction of music's confusing, all The of sex is more fun
And the road that will lead you to both of Is for the races and wrecks But there's of a mystery in music If we get some directions from sex
Sacred The big machine is Sacred We're in the way
ground They to pave it over Sacred it all the same
Well, at first you say you'll just do it for But you do it with friends, right As soon as you do it for Right there's where the innocence
How you navigate between better and worse With just these numbers of to count? The pop charts are cutting notches For the number of units you
When spirit gets lost in The counting its toll You find yourself more numbers It's the sex-drug of rock and
And it you to strange addictions Like image, marketing Just trying to get them to like you, that's you think How could that be a sin?
Sacred The big is moving Sacred We're in the way
ground They to pave it over ground Make it all the
Well, what do you want them to like you See the question to ask, that's the question Would it help you if everyone knew your If that were only a mask?
And why do you want to like you? What are you trying to bring? Or do you after just their attention Do you want to come when you sing?
Sacred The big machine is ground We're in the way
ground They to pave it over Sacred it all the same
What you to do? What you tryin' to do? Capture beauty So that you could loved for an hour? Is it the of being attractive, no
It is just the attraction of See, sex and are much the same We feel hearts and skin And what you are going to get out of them Is just you put in
ground The big machine is ground We're in the way
Sacred They want to it over Sacred it all the same
They want to it The big machine is ground We're in the way
Sacred They want to it over Sacred Make it all the
ground