A Rusty Glove
Tinker, tinker, tinker.
Pling, pling, ding.
My body breaks, the void screams.
Weary of hollow metals that ring of hollow life,
by hand and by hammer I give birth tonight.
Metal bend and metal scream,
welding bright the circuit seam.
Weary of the hollow spaces between the twinkling lights,
I lost something along the way and it doesn't feel right.
Maybe I'm not falling apart but I'm falling a lot,
Maybe I'm not completely circuitry, but I can't stop.
I'm gonna fall apart!
I'm gonna fall apart!
Coming close, I'm coming closer, or maybe I'm not.
I can make you a sex machine, that would be hot.
Break my nails and pull my hair,
theres circuit boards everywhere.
How long have I been in here?
This is not my house.
Maybe I'm not falling apart but I'm falling a lot,
Maybe I'm not completely circuitry, but I can't stop.
I'm not a robot but I've got a mechanical hand,
I can steal the stars and put them back again.
Once upon a time, I had a broken heart.
Once upon a time, I just had a heart.
I limped when I was wounded, so I replaced my parts.
Once upon a time, I had a heart,
I'm not a robot but I've got a mechanical hand,
I can steal the stars and put them back again.
If I am a machine because of my hand made heart,
then why do I dream I'm a dinosaur tearing sheep apart?
Lightning fill me up, it tells me where to go.
Colors me and changes me, it withers me to coal.
Lightning tears me up, leaves me smoldering.
I close my eyes and hear her voice framed by vulture wings.
In the wires of my hand, I see my fate.
Cold and mechanical, squeaky with hate.
It clicks, whirs and I'm satisfied.
It's designed to fill that black hole deep inside.
I'm turning away from the path of soft skin to a path of mechanical sin.
Turning away from the warmth of gold,
to an empty machine thats broken and cold.
Click, click, click, hollow rooms always consume.
Click, click, click, dark and empty like most of the moon.
Click, click, click, the things we do in the name of love.
Click, click, click, secret machines and a rusty glove.
Sleep well mechanical thing, you were fun for awhile.
But now I'm going going going to go and get a burrito,
and get a burrito
and get a burrito.
Pling, pling, ding.
My body breaks, the void screams.
Weary of hollow metals that ring of hollow life,
by hand and by hammer I give birth tonight.
Metal bend and metal scream,
welding bright the circuit seam.
Weary of the hollow spaces between the twinkling lights,
I lost something along the way and it doesn't feel right.
Maybe I'm not falling apart but I'm falling a lot,
Maybe I'm not completely circuitry, but I can't stop.
I'm gonna fall apart!
I'm gonna fall apart!
Coming close, I'm coming closer, or maybe I'm not.
I can make you a sex machine, that would be hot.
Break my nails and pull my hair,
theres circuit boards everywhere.
How long have I been in here?
This is not my house.
Maybe I'm not falling apart but I'm falling a lot,
Maybe I'm not completely circuitry, but I can't stop.
I'm not a robot but I've got a mechanical hand,
I can steal the stars and put them back again.
Once upon a time, I had a broken heart.
Once upon a time, I just had a heart.
I limped when I was wounded, so I replaced my parts.
Once upon a time, I had a heart,
I'm not a robot but I've got a mechanical hand,
I can steal the stars and put them back again.
If I am a machine because of my hand made heart,
then why do I dream I'm a dinosaur tearing sheep apart?
Lightning fill me up, it tells me where to go.
Colors me and changes me, it withers me to coal.
Lightning tears me up, leaves me smoldering.
I close my eyes and hear her voice framed by vulture wings.
In the wires of my hand, I see my fate.
Cold and mechanical, squeaky with hate.
It clicks, whirs and I'm satisfied.
It's designed to fill that black hole deep inside.
I'm turning away from the path of soft skin to a path of mechanical sin.
Turning away from the warmth of gold,
to an empty machine thats broken and cold.
Click, click, click, hollow rooms always consume.
Click, click, click, dark and empty like most of the moon.
Click, click, click, the things we do in the name of love.
Click, click, click, secret machines and a rusty glove.
Sleep well mechanical thing, you were fun for awhile.
But now I'm going going going to go and get a burrito,
and get a burrito
and get a burrito.
Credits
Writer(s): Erik Engstrom, Dashiell Arkenstone, Nathan Winneke, Chris Prophet, David Isen
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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