HOME OF THE HITMEN

The sun shines on the aluminium
I guess this must be the home of the hitmen

BODY ELECTRIC

Through the cables and the underground now
The faceless breathless calls
This is Babel, sensurround now
The place is death with walls (x4)

Too much contact, no more feelings
The Sound around them all
Acid on the floor so she walk on the ceiling
And the body electric flashes on the bathroom wall (x2)
Crawling to the corners where the idiot children call
See the body flashing on the bathroom wall

x2