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Sub-Urban Tribe Panorama Frequency Sunday morning nine o'clock I start to roll over her voice fills my every cell I'm gliding out of time My dial's locked on her frequency Diving in electric waves the surfaec far above no need for solid ground or air I'm losing track of place My dial's locked on her frequency Around and around this room I go operator told me to hang on a friendly word is what I'm losing her Day sixteen, i'm in the net my body's barely alive subconsciousness alarming me there's only moment's left Still I am locked on her Frequency hopelessly I am locked on her Frequency on her frequency Her voice is always in the air inside my head, I just can't bare I'll never get to her this way she keeps hanging on Please someone cut the cable Please someone cut the cable Please someone cut the cable now |
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