The tapping of the feet seemed loud
There's a barrel in a whirlwind cloud
I danced with a Spaniard man
'Til we had no breath left in our pounding chests
I shuddered like I'm more bereft
Danced grief from my pores
Beat pounds like I'm knocking at the door

The high hat stands like a feather
I'm in, I'm in
A paralytic loveless dream
Not a single face I've seen
Is a friend I recognize or recognizes me
I blackout, I don't want your dim sum
It's 3AM, I wanna dance 'til the sun comes
I wanna fight your cousin
I wanna tear through the night like an angel flare
I'm a ten foot snare
That cuts in the sky with no care, no care, no care, no

A narcissist on a khaki stool
The kids are not alright
The kids are not

Feels like I'm coming home
Feels like I'm coming home

A narcissist on a khaki stool
The kids are not alright
The kids are not

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Adam Devonshire, Jonathan Beavis, Joseph Talbot, Lee Kiernan, Mark Bowen