The city's drowning in the vicious, cruel, maddening heat
My melting body's sinking into the streets
I repeat

The same routine to force myself to move my wavering feet
There comes a point when love becomes obsolete
And I believe that that is it

Somewhere down the line my tender heart has turned to lead
And even if I get to meet you one final time
I'd rather it be on your deathbed

I'm sorry, officer, these days you often run out of chalk
I'll interlock my hands and eagerly walk
I'll make this molten body move

And keep my cravings buried deep and on lock
That's what I'd want, but an electrical shock
Runs through my body as I fall

I'm sorry, little brother
I try so hard, but I just can't remember your name
I wonder at what point one man became another
Well in the end, though, I guess
To your withering brain it's all the same

The pavement dissolves under the blinding summer Sun
The city's slowly vaporising
These iron bindings come undone
Oh please, remember, dear mother, was it Samara 1921?
The memory of when the mountain of the twentieth century pinned us down

Let us march to the beat, drag your feet, the red's calling
Let go of your greed, plant your seed, the water's flowing, flowing
My stomach turns and
I reach out just to hold you one last time, my blood is boiling
This burning air is taking shape, around my throat its heavy arms are coiling, coiling

Aah
Somewhere down the line my tender heart has turned to lead
And even if I get to meet you one final time

I'd rather it be on your deathbed
Oh please, remember, dear mother, was it Samara 1921?
The memory of when the mountain of the twentieth century pinned us down