turnstiles on mezzanine jet ways and Dramamine fiends and x-ray machines you were hurling through space g-forces twisting your face breeding superstition a fatal premonition you know you got to envision the fiery crash
oh close your eyes and you wake up face stuck to a vinyl settee oh the line was starting to break up just as you were starting to say something apropos I don't know
beige tiles and magazines Lou Dobbs and the CNN team on every monitor screen you were caught in the crossfire where every human face has you reaching for your mace so it's kind of an imposition fatal premonition
to save our lives you've got to envision and to save all our lives you've got to envision the fiery crash
it's just a formality why must I explain? just a nod to mortality before you get on a place
oh close your eyes and you wake up face stuck to a vinyl settee oh the line was starting to break up what was that you were going to say?