Calling all state surgeons
Please sponsor my dreams
I've decided to sell what their worth
In circles where fate and the faithless convene
No more motorcycles in the air
No more motorcycles in the air
No more motorcycles in the air
There's no more motorcycles in the air
Call off all perfect moments
We fall between, like air between oil
And the skin of moon-sick halfwits
And sheen blue soil
No more motorcycles in the air
(Your short hair is the year I died)
No more motorcycles in the air
(Your short hair is the year I died)
There's no more motorcycles in the air
Angels racing in ardent positions
Christian kisses, I don't care
There's no more motorcycles in the air