[ Featuring The Electric Post ]
It's raining on the stripped windows
Of a tired, iron train
I forgot the ticket on a station bench
The driver watches me with suspicious eyes
And I have to come back
Under my twisted tips
And I have to come back
Under my ripped lips
I cannot lie again about
My silly direction
How can I tell him that I'm lost?
Into my inner station
And I have to come back
Under my twisted tips
And I have to come back
Under my ripped lips
And I have to come.
