Motorcycles do figure eights, on the forecourt by the multiplex. Phone sex via application, the dull swagger of intimidation.
The rush of cunfusion Replaced by comprehension
Pixellated punishment Desire's the only crime The calmness of the pack Whose power is in decline These violent dreams are nothing new Don't think that she won't leave you
Here comes The animal Two by Two Makes my body feel wet through
High-pitched MCs Digital thrill The drunks vibrate The beat seeps through Wound-down car windows On the corner of the Banlieue
Here comes The animal Two by Two Makes my body feel wet through
We've been told that we can take it - Everything we ever wanted.