It's by design: the constructs stand, the heads will ring, lost from all

the simple things.

A moment caught, a moment spent, for popsters all the losers then can't

figure out something is wrong



The secret's out, the mystery's gone



I'm waiting for the one to call me on what I owe her, take me straight

on her shoulders, lift me up show me how

One hand raised, a straight arm; goose step, click



Still, something's dying

The constructs stand, the heads will ring, lost from all the simple things.

The noise it takes to really strip a motion siezed, a feeling gripped

With time long wasted, breath long baited, there's nothing new to show;

the song drones on