I get a Giacometti feeling as I walk through a crowd Getting thinner by the minute, moving walls of sound
I was red hot once, forged by the fire, by the hearth, by the hallway, by the family--lyre.
Bent and prodded 'til the fire went out
Cold like the winters in the great north woods
Ice like the look in my mother's eyes
Blinded by the fire, buckled by the cold
I was electrified, villified, seduced and scorned
Left for dead and nobody mourned
I geta Giacometti feeling as I walk through the crowd Sometimes I tower, more often I cower
Wrap my steely arms around the cold, iron gates
But I'm no match for the seven fates
Sweating i the cold as I wait for my date
Her offal-streaked hair and her pitted teeth
The lines on her face like an old briefcase
The scabs on her fingers like a box-car tarp
I was electrified villified, seduced and scorned
Left for dead and nobody mourned
I geta Giacometti feeling as I walk through the crowd THE CROWD, THIS HEAT, YOUR DOG STILL LEAVES ME COLD THE CROWD THESE WALLS THE COLD MAKES ME FALL
Where the dog sucks in its metal breath
By the museum where I see bodies that can't compare to her
'Cause my date she's got the most perfect skin,
'Cause my date sh'es got a belly I could grow up in,
'Cause my date she's got arches of fun and glory,
'Cause my date, she's got such a glamorous lilt Sweating in the crowd like a Giacometti Hound
THE CROWD, THIS HEAT...
I was red hot once, forged by the fire, by the hearth, by the hallway, by the family--lyre.
Bent and prodded 'til the fire went out
Cold like the winters in the great north woods
Ice like the look in my mother's eyes
Blinded by the fire, buckled by the cold
I was electrified, villified, seduced and scorned
Left for dead and nobody mourned
I geta Giacometti feeling as I walk through the crowd Sometimes I tower, more often I cower
Wrap my steely arms around the cold, iron gates
But I'm no match for the seven fates
Sweating i the cold as I wait for my date
Her offal-streaked hair and her pitted teeth
The lines on her face like an old briefcase
The scabs on her fingers like a box-car tarp
I was electrified villified, seduced and scorned
Left for dead and nobody mourned
I geta Giacometti feeling as I walk through the crowd THE CROWD, THIS HEAT, YOUR DOG STILL LEAVES ME COLD THE CROWD THESE WALLS THE COLD MAKES ME FALL
Where the dog sucks in its metal breath
By the museum where I see bodies that can't compare to her
'Cause my date she's got the most perfect skin,
'Cause my date sh'es got a belly I could grow up in,
'Cause my date she's got arches of fun and glory,
'Cause my date, she's got such a glamorous lilt Sweating in the crowd like a Giacometti Hound
THE CROWD, THIS HEAT...