Screwed on the chemical floors of the dance world Now you see why Ill always be a dancer Plucked by the transcendental brats to the trance world But desertscapes on the face of a girl were not the answer And we are not the answer We are not the answer No, we are not the answer No, dont worry my dear, nothings been sold Its just a golden bridge Im burning whose fire is the real gold No, dont worry my dear, nothings been sold Its just a golden bridge Im burning whose fire is the real goal Fire is the real goal [Chorus] x2 So, therell be moonlight over Michelle tonight And another West coast morning Fuck it, Im warning You can look, you can touch but no, not that much Whats one more police action when Im cancelling the truce again?
answer, goal, desertscapes, whose, real