Call it superstition. Followed and fell. Under the falling. Under the spell. Singing. Bury me. Bury me. Spoken in tongues. Of many colours. In the colours of heaven.
Through the cables and the underground now. The faceless breathless calls. This is babel, Sensurround now. This place is death with walls. . Too much contact, no more feeling.
Burn me a fire in the reptile house. In the colour and the carnage fall me down. My face in the fire in the reptile house. And the kissing and the colour come crashing down.
In the western sky. My kingdom come. . So still, so dark all over Europe. And I ride down the highway 101. By the side of the ocean headed for sunset.
Flesh.... (Bone). (Splinters on the telephone). (Whispers). Bullet in the head. Down. Head. Down. Got power to burn. Got means. Got flowers to burn. Between those pretty dreams.