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| Bush The Science Of Things Warm Machine I memorize the basics. Making strange faces. Treaded slowly for i know, There's a thousand miles to go Without blinking. Gravitate spacewards, find a home for the head, From my basement. No darkness ever left. This is the night, this is the sound. Here comes the warm machine, Such a warm machine, Pretty warm... Some days are playful. Making play faces. But we will not let it through, The darkness and the sense. Of being born to loose. This is the life, this is the sound Here comes the warm machine, Such a warm machine. This is the life, this is the ground, Here comes the warm machine, Such a warm machine. If we never know we can only, feel, I'll take the help i'll take a slice, warm alright, now, 'Cos i feel alright. I memorize the basics, basics, basics. This is the night, this is the sound, here comes the warm machine. Such a warm machine, such a warm machine. Such a warm machine, machine, machine, machine. |
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