[Verse 1] I drag a fingernail across the cold steel table Trying to scratch out the frequency of this cable. The television screen is humming in a dead tone, A cold grease on the receiver of the black telephone. I can’t remember if I locked the cellar door, Or if I’m just a silhouette spilling on the linoleum floor. [Chorus] [Harmony: High 3rd sharp harmony, cold and detached] Cigarette ashes in my brain. [Harmony: Low 5th drone] Here I am, insane again... [Harmony: Thick triple-tracked octave split] Grey Matters! The chemicals are folding in the wash, A beautiful, expensive, bitter squash. [Verse 2] The clock on the mantlepiece is ticking out of time, A synchronized paralysis, a well-rehearsed crime. My knuckles are white from gripping the edge of the sink, Staring at the copper pipes, trying not to think. The ice in the glass has melted to a lukewarm brine, A slow-motion panic on a dotted design. [Chorus] [Harmony: High 3rd sharp harmony, cold and detached] Cigarette ashes in my brain. [Harmony: Low 5th drone] Here I am, insane again... [Harmony: Thick triple-tracked octave split] Grey Matters! The chemicals are folding in the wash, A beautiful, expensive, bitter squash. [Instrumental Solo: Synth] [Instrumental Solo: Synth Solo - A sharp, glassy DX7 FM digital lead cutting through a warm, sweeping Prophet-5 pad, driven by a nervous 124 BPM motorik beat and a high-register melodic bassline] [Bridge] [Harmony: Desperate, overlapping counter-melody] I hear the traffic down on the interstate, An endless loop of metal trying to negotiate. Is anybody home behind those yellow window panes? Or are we just a collection of deliberate stains? I’m freezing in the heat of a synthetic July, With a mechanical shudder and a perfectly dry eye. [Chorus] [Harmony: High 3rd sharp harmony, cold and detached] Cigarette ashes in my brain. [Harmony: Low 5th drone] Here I am, insane again... [Harmony: Thick triple-tracked octave split] Grey Matters! The chemicals are folding in the wash, A beautiful, expensive, bitter squash.
