The Pulsebeat

There's a man who wants my blood, coming to see me now
He wants to know why I don't like his music played so loud
He's telling me what to know, what I should listen to
It's just too bad when music's sad and no-one wants to go
He's talking amongst his friends, talking in a quiet voice
It's not too quiet and I like it, just go play yourself

Can't you see my friend
That's where the music ends
The pulsebeat takes it over
Adrenaline and not too sober
There's no need to conform
Your way through the storm
With your hair cut down to your shoulder blades
Or none to make the norm

I sit to have my lunch
More a mid-morning snack or brunch
I try and try but I can't fly
A comical, quizzical hunch
He'll sing it o-falsett
But musically it's too wet
It makes me cry, it's just too high
For me to fall back yet

Can't you see my friend
That's where the music ends
The pulsebeat takes it over
Adrenaline and not too sober
There's no need to conform
Your way through the storm
With your hair cut down to your shoulder blades
Or none to make the norm

Can't you see my friend
That's where the music ends
The pulsebeat takes it over
Adrenaline and not too sober
There's no need to conform
Your way through the storm
With your hair cut down to your shoulder blades
Or none to make the norm