Pitchblende Reticence
It's by design: the constructs stand, the heads will ring, lost from all the simple things. A moment caught, a moment spent, for popsters all the losers then can't figure out something is wrong The secret's out, the mystery's gone I'm waiting for the one to call me on what I owe her, take me straight on her shoulders, lift me up show me how One hand raised, a straight arm; goose step, click Still, something's dying The constructs stand, the heads will ring, lost from all the simple things. The noise it takes to really strip a motion siezed, a feeling gripped With time long wasted, breath long baited, there's nothing new to show; the song drones on