A morbid fascination with all things in extremes

A limited sport will leave its spot on me

Early in the morning, I've given up on sleep

I'm in the attention, but all I hear is my heart beat

His spastic aspirations will make a man of me

Brought him for his playing, such sensitivity

Monsters of the present are the monsters of the past


Took a look in your lyric book, your head's right your arse

It's unbelievable, the way you got it all, it seems improbable

The inner city fauna is crying round your feet

I never really noticed how your eyebrows seemed to meet

In perpetual fear of being swallowed whole

Beached in the suburbs in the body of a whale