slow you down It cuts like a knife and tries to get in you This spooky electric sound Give up if you want to and all is lost Spooky Electric will be
Well I was born in 1965 That was a hell of a good time to be alive Except that by the age of ten The music had turned crap again Now people say they
that I don't keep records anyway don't go looking for anything new, find ya a used one that will do things get better after several years of age
be fryin' up some hair in that little electric chair, yeah Electric chair Electric chair Electric chair Electric chair Electric chair Electric chair Electric chair Electric chair Electric chair Electric
form of blasphemy Whether you are making weapons or simple electricity Someone fashion me a pulpit, I have been called to engage With the maniacal heretics of the nuclear age
flyin' diet form, with new age music on vinyl for the quiet storm methods and techniques and symmetrical forces full of i need a few more electrical
of racer teams slide in tubes through icey streams, slide in curve from 6 and 8 Thrills in centigrades Suits as tight as second skin Proud electric masculine
't deliver Pull my hair out if I sell out, bury me on my stomach Without no drawers on at all if I don't go off Or either lethal injection or straight electricity
you got, see Misdirected hostility, that's what you got It's body rock, pop and lock, here's an example Boulevard Chrome beats always ampin' your temple Punks get got in the age
was really dying Cried so much, his face was wet, then I knew, he was not lying I heard telephones, opera house, favorite melodies I saw boys, toys, electric
like a snow cone Listen before we come to not existing The new system Sets up the weather to splice us Wipe the dust off mental vices Snipe devices in this age
Prosecution, execution, revolution, mass confusion All over ready for war, I'm a soldier Nightmares of cross-airs, concentration camps And electric chairs
to this nation to seek the fulfillment of a promise of America. We were promised a better life in our home countries, where we were told that privatizing water and electricity
We've gone post electric I've written down the concept It's casual to deny Along sentimental lines A little bronze age eclectic And born for the first
earth was really dying Cried so much his face was wet, then I knew he was not lying I heard telephones, opera house, favourite melodies I saw boys, toys electric
Conan rules with an iron fist Many people, they look up to him ?? You think you're civilized, but you will never understand Master swordsman of Hyborian Age
From the wind-torn ramparts of the Tower of Hope we survey a thousand futures. Release your dreams from this electric pinnacle. You must have hope... [
Oh, the age of the inmates, I remember quite freely No younger than twelve, no older than seventeen Thrown in like bandits and cast off like criminals