Tekster: Dead Letter Office. Sunshine Gasoline.

You broke the mould.
Tore the book to pieces and wrote your own.
Your heart dissolved.
Into a million pieces you couldn't solve.
You lost the plot.
Your skin got tight and split at the seams.
So you shut the beams,
sat back and watched the picture in wide screen.

You smell like sunshine gasoline.
You made the first cut clean.

You knew a girl.
Her face was drawn the scars were real.
She carved her own.
Had a fear of being buried of dying alone.
She likes the rain.
Takes medication for the labour pains.
She says our lives are feigned.
and when you're gone all they'll remember is your name.

She smells like sunshine gasoline.
She made the first cut clean.

And now we're older.
And so much better.
I take it back. It's so familiar.
Our limbs are coloured red and black.

You knew a boy.
He had a golden tounge and lips of stone.
Cut from the same bone.
He makes a lonely sound when he's on the phone.
You picked him out.
A clouded mind that's yours to clean.
He looked the part.
He played the part perfectly.

She smells like sunshine gasoline.
She made the first cut clean.

And now we're older.
And so much better.
I take it back. It's so familiar.
Our limbs are coloured red and black.

You get a new skin when the old one flakes.
You get another fresh start as a perfect stranger.
You've never been happier.

I held your hair, you bit your tongue.
You held your breath. I picked my bones.
No spark. No fire. No hope. No desire.
You've got alot left to answer for