Tollerance Moving into Control, I'm moving into control A flase sensation, someone one said, only sin gives inspiration. You let my soul down, coming for you. And if the message doesn't stop, we are going to end up with our feet way off the ground. And if the message doesn't stop, the serial number under our skin will be ripped off. In war we play with love, when it's not black and white what colour is it? So don't say I've found myself. I know Salvador got lucky, but there are 40 fools without original identity, and that sinking feeling returns like a thermal, as theories on paper are riddles with stimulation. Oh my world has an ideal theme, and man is not a true artist unless he looks at art in nature. As you look bigger on paper. For tradgedy and jelousy and tollerance and greed, of the new generation, shadow our destination. Come home my angel, come home my friend, come home my baby, lost out there somewhere. Silver & Gold create reflections in our minds. Waters the bomb, where is my rubber dingy song? Symetrie is no flase sensation. Come home my baby, come home.......

Miria Male Computer 1: (We strongly associate optical information with familiar people from our past encounters which influences the way we behave. Next week I will be watching a wildlife programm. You are my mate matey boy.) I saw you standin in a fine art gallery I couldn’t find the artist that would truly inspire me The flat pack boxes with the bone china cutlery Was not what I was lookin for when you set eyes on me Behind you was a picture from the 21st century A hard brush collage with a lot of eccentricity Nobody was lookin at the work that went into it With black and white glasses it looked like a piece of shit Don’t say I’ve found myself when I can’t run or hide The myth of Miria Remember the times that I could have saved you But our lives fell apart like an old scuffed up shoe But I still have a dream with us yes it’s true Like every girl I meet I still compare to you Behind you was a picture from the 21st century A hard brush collage with a lot of eccentricity Nobody was lookin at the work that went into it With black and white glasses it looked like a piece of shit Don’t say I’ve found myself when I can’t run or hide The myth of Miria And here you are standin right in front of me I can’t say hello I’m a little shy you see I want you to hug me but you just didn’t see me You took the arm of another and I knew you were meant for me And don’t say I’ve found myself when I can’t run or hide The myth of Miria Blown away on thermal wind Cos there’s art in nature and there’s art in you. Sittin’ by herself Pretending she’s lonely again.