I try to be nice, i'm a disciple of hell Struck by the sight of a shaven headed girl I step outside then back into my shell Looping thoughts begin to unfurl Yeah Oh yeah I feel like a metre stick on the varnished floor Of an old classroom that is so brown I'm a dried out plant completely at her mercy Waiting for a drink for her to nurse me Slow legs in the dream Not like a physical being I don't know what it means Just an amalgamation of a lot of things To the autodrome with the best intentions Forget all the things i wanted to mention I'll end up with a few good stories To recount and bask in former glories Yeah Oh yeah Pulling down the picket fences Over stimulating the tactile senses Action stations Cubes and stars and rings Saturated to the point of bleed