You’ve been keeping your distance
Infected as I am [bad word] wounded and careless
Crawling back to you [bad word] down under spotlights
For I am weak like you
Scent of placenta
We’re heading back to the source

The houselights fade out
perfect warm death
The worms have crawled in
And made us who we are

Radio out
Dancing to a silent tune
Stand up and shout
For all we are is innocent
Turn the lights out
This could be the final hour
And we’re on time

I see hundreds of faces
Staring back at me
An armory of human shields
To protect me from the [bad word] The [bad word] as I never told it
For I’m a liar like you
Nothing quite like a transplant
To erase the past

Tie your blindfold
This could be the final hour
And we all count.