Cook up a storm now, how the night is silent when it subsides
Feel that the earth is still and you are the one who is spinning
She's had her father's name permeate her corporate dreams
You take her out and see Eraserhead, ask her what the hell she thinks it means
Well you can handle the yuppie heels and the pseudo-intellectual bedroom babble
But when you hear her candid laugh and the childhood photograph is peering from the nightstand
Excuse yourself, weep against the glass partition
Excuse yourself, cry out to those constellations
Head on home now, and before you pull out the zip-lock
Take a glance in the mirror, feel your heart sink like a falling rock
Push away thoughts of your mother's face with your company card
So you're like an adder shedding his skin
Yeah, you're like an adder shedding his skin
Now strip your suit down, toss it on the leather armchair
As the 21st century sunset is glaring onto tempered glass
Think that if the past six years were on VHS you'd pay to destroy it
Create a different way to blow your wages everyday, and
Extrude the tar, you feel alive and you love the stars
Extrude the stuff, melting like it's never enough
Sitting on the high-rise penthouse loveseat like a child
Peering through teary eyes, it's just city lights overcoming the sky
Cook up a storm next Friday but the empty wind still blows your way
Feel that the earth is still and you are the one who is spinning
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