Shadowbox of perfect sound

Pick up the blue and follow through

A cinematic experience from the gut I ask you

Who's the blackest of them all and is he 65 or not at all?

Pixie Jane still comes through

Works for money and gives to you

I can tell the clothes she wears

Her laughs, her punk rock insecurity

Is she a belly or a reject by her own design?

Design

Never real, always true

More than sure to see you through

There's a game we like to play

It seems to me it explains away the need to shoot

The narrow laps of angel things we all refuse to see

Hey there little Lucifer

Your matchbook burns

Your friends all call you by your second name

That's it

A new identity now resent

Drought

Drought