you'll have to help me here
these lines are not so clear
i'd call and call the afterlife
but only get your ansaphone

you know you're safe amongst
those dancefloor fireflies
you ride the beast without a rein
the backbone of the night… and back again

here we are then
one more boring high-rise night
in heaven
useless miracles and
part-time deities
speedball superstitions
here we are then
love thy television

here we are then
one more boring high-rise night
in heaven
useless miracles and
far be it from me
to spoil your evening
but just think, girl,
what if every horse had wings?