God's Gift - Ultrasound

We feel the need before we came to this dance

We come in peace, we fall to pieces

We smash and grab and then we smoke some fags and leave

Our call to arms is largely disregarded

'Tis the season for high treason

And in the midst of all the hype we still believed

I’m Don Quixote in a fetching onesie

Turning tables, burning stables

And down amongst the dossers king of all I see

Oh feel the need, feel the burn as I bleed

My one desire to fan the flames of me

Me, and nothing else but me

God’s gift, a high plains drifter

Comes to town

He brings a saintly sickness

And we all fall down

High five, we stand in line and we

Praise his frame

Lockjaw, our throats are sore so

We scream his name

As I stride this lonely stage

Bleeding from my swollen rage

This queasy crown

We all fall down

I can’t do this alone