Qwerty Finger - iTunes Live: London Festival '10

We slide in from the epoch of Anglo-American wire
And a saxon spire, glint in the glare far above me
Put pressure on it!

She collapse me! Man alive, her every ache a baton to me!
Age of ending! Where's the worth in proving I was here?

And all be lying in rows they can't believe that it's happening
(If it's gonna happen to him)

So how will they remember us whole, when we turn into salt?
And it's mine, the fault, mine the dream, and the vein, home of whale-flesh, make soap out of it!

I regret so! Every wand I splinter in a fit of frenzy
Distant memory! She don't care for leaving anything behind

And all be lying in rows they can't believe that it's happening
(Then it's gonna happen to him)

I can't let you turn yourself off

Off

Your every ounce an element sleeping, a part of you just never quite receiving
I wanna be the one to get in
But the only way you tell me you're certain, to draw asunder every leper curtain
Would be a hail of every flower to ash
And when every attosecond means nothing, and all that you believe in isn't working
I can't begin to tell you I know
And in 20, 000 years they trawl the seaboard, but all that's washing up there is a keyboard
Yeah they piece it all together from that

Come on, child, what you say, what you do, yeah it's all over now

She collapse me! Man alive, her every ache a baton to me!
Age of ending! Where's the worth in proving I was here?