Sat in the corner of the garden grill With the plastic flowers on the windowsill No more miracles, loaves and fishes Been so busy with the washing of the dishes Reaction levels much too high, I can do without the stimuli Im living way beyond my ways and means Living in the zone of the inbetweens I can see the flashes on the frozen ocean Static charge of the cold emotion Watched on by the distant eyes Watched on by the silent, hidden spies But still the warmth flows through me And I sense you know me well No luck, no golden chances No mitigating circumstances now Its only common sense There are no accidents around here I am willing, lay your hands on me I am ready, lay your hands on me I believe, lay your hands on me, over me Working in gardens, thornless roses Fat men play with their garden hoses Poolside laughter has a cynical bite Sausage speared by the cocktail satellite I walk away from from light and sound Down stairways leading underground But still the warmth flows through me And I sense you know me well Its only common sense There are no accidents around here I am willing, lay your hands on me I am ready, lay your hands on me I believe, lay your hands on me, over me Over me
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