1747

It's cold in the living room,
I'm reading the dials

You're huddling
With the thousand ways
Thinking through can we call it thinking
Feeling each word from your feet to next week

All my cool
Could fit on the point of my blue pencil
I have goosebumps but my head's a marshmallow
On the surface

You're Annie Lennox in 1983
I'm some of them who just want

To look into the fool feeling
With a pie pan of gasoline
And a bread bag of small bills

Fuel always wants you to bring the O2
And I am no exception