The Pulsebeat

There's a man who wants my blood, coming to see me now He wants to know why I don't like his music played so loud He's telling me what to know, what I should listen to It's just too bad when music's sad and no-one wants to go He's talking amongst his friends, talking in a quiet voice It's not too quiet and I like it, just go play yourself Can't you see my friend That's where the music ends The pulsebeat takes it over Adrenaline and not too sober There's no need to conform Your way through the storm With your hair cut down to your shoulder blades Or none to make the norm I sit to have my lunch More a mid-morning snack or brunch I try and try but I can't fly A comical, quizzical hunch He'll sing it o-falsett But musically it's too wet It makes me cry, it's just too high For me to fall back yet Can't you see my friend That's where the music ends The pulsebeat takes it over Adrenaline and not too sober There's no need to conform Your way through the storm With your hair cut down to your shoulder blades Or none to make the norm Can't you see my friend That's where the music ends The pulsebeat takes it over Adrenaline and not too sober There's no need to conform Your way through the storm With your hair cut down to your shoulder blades Or none to make the norm