Screwed on the chemical floors of the dance world
Now you see why I'll always be a dancer
Plucked by the transcendental brats to the trance world
But desertscapes on the face of a girl were not the answer
And we are not the answer
We are not the answer
No, we are not the answer
No, don't worry, my dear, nothing's been sold
It's just a golden bridge I'm burning whose fire is the real gold
No, don't worry, my dear, nothing's been sold
It's just a golden bridge I'm burning whose fire is the real goal
Fire is the real goal
So, there'll be moonlight over Michelle tonight
And another West Coast morning
F*ck it, I'm warning
You can look, you can touch but, no, not that much
What's one more police action when I'm cancelling the truce again?
So, there'll be moonlight over Michelle tonight
And another West Coast morning
F*ck it, I'm warning
You can look, you can touch but, no, not that much
What's one more police action when I'm cancelling the truce again?