Lyrics

someone is calling psychics on the phone at 3am
the future runs through the telephone wires
sitting in a rain cloud on the fire escape
waiting for the building to burn

mmmmmm, mmmmmmm

steelhead and blackmouth packed up in the fishing nets
emptied in the sluice then airborne in the news
the salt gets in your skin and preserves a feeling
grey on grey on grey on grey on grey

oooh, the sky breaks open
oooh, your shirt is soaking
oooh, something is choking you

the writers and the singers and the dancers and the dealers
carry the same needles, feathers, and thread
queen anne was a friend of mine and she'll always be
for coffee shops for flannel shirts for realtors for english ivy

oooh, the sky breaks open
oooh, your shirt is soaking
oooh, something is choking you

you want these lies and lies and lies and lies why do you
want these lies and lies and lies and lies why do you
want these lies and lies and lies and lies
why do you keep holding strong to these ties