Lyrics The Inner Burn Tickle - Fyrce Muons

Get drunk and run it up the guage
Big sigh great show heaven sent to other minds
Bet you never had to save the game
And you cant be sane
No feel

Shoot down
Slave locked in not true
I can feel it hot cold
Like a tickle
Like an inner burn each lung

No burn no fight no credits in the grime
And he grabbed the steel and yanked it hard
Cold twisting souls among the yard spiraling up to the sky
Greased like a pig with an eye about to die
Shimmy shimmy throat crave thrown by the sins of

I stood there watching looking at the clouds swirl grey mass
Oh plume of battered nation stop motion one at a time
Inch inch inch devolve devour devour
One cloud to another devour
Let cold of night break there cold wind

Shoot down
Slave locked in not true
I can feel it hot cold
Like a tickle
Like an inner burn each lung