And how often will we meet How many games to play How many slices will you eat How many years anyway And maybe Lenin wasn't right And how long will it need Till you'll lose your sapient sight I'm so fucking scared A room full of sounds Close behind you Behind you Turn to the sounds To the sounds Close behind you How many fishes will you feed And how often we'll discuss If Lenin wasn't right And how long will it need Till you'll lose your sapient sight I'm so fucking scared Clockwork, clockwork Sitting on that front porch Time is running Holds my shoulder in doubt Poetry of post war Black holes under cold floors When I was sitting On that fucking front porch, front porch Heavenly mindfuck stuff Take a walk in the city of doubt I need a cemetery passport Pictures pale as sandstone And i thought I'm so fucking scared I'm so fucking scared I'm so fucking scared I'm so fucking scared And i'm so fucking scared I'm so fucking scared I'm so fucking scared I'm so fucking scared And i'm so fucking scared And i'm so fucking scared I'm so fucking scared I'm so fucking scared I'm so fucking scared So fucking scared And i'm so fucking scared I'm so fucking scared I'm so fucking scared And i'm so fucking scared