Promise your secrecy into the microphone Into the megaphone, into the cell Questioning decency under the microscope Over and over then over and out Organise my life over the telephone Over my dead body, over my head Tread a fine line between you and your memories Between you and me things are best left unsaid
The honouring of violence Is a security number Always so quiet it slips under your guard Pushes your dead body, under the microscope Over and over it's over say over and out
Another incident, another accident Dangerous emptiness, people in shock You pelt them with rocks And the old innuendo 'no that was no mishap That brake line was cut' Lie on the pavement, wait for an ambulance Say to yourself nothing is what it seems Never meaning to say you never say what you mean You get caught by the sirens on your t.v. screen
The honouring of violence Is a security number Always so quiet it slips under your guard Pushes your dead body, under the microscope Over and over and over Then over and out Over and out out Over and out out Over and out