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