Space ships can't tame the jungle 
And I feel like I'm giving in 
We've been drivin [bad word] a desert 
Looking for a life to call our own 

I push I pull the days go slow 
Into a void we filled with death 
And noise that laughs falls off their 
Maps all cured of pain and doubts 
In your little brain 
 [bad word] sky is purple 
Dogs are howling to themselves 
Days are changing with the weather 
Like a rip tide could rip us away 

I push I pull the days go slow 
Into a void we filled with death 
And noise that laughs falls off their 
Maps all cured of pain and doubts 
In your little brain