Restless are the few, rested in their bunkers
Taken kind of trash, inside their hearts
Tender is the night, tragic are the values
That have been entrusted to the back of your mind
Dissenting government, epiphany at rest
Exactly positioning, no home, no food, no sex
Wrestling for hours, the choice is not the best
Blame it on the brunette
Powers of the weak, rules remain uncertain
Could you just expose your mouth to me
Worried by and large, harried by convenience
Statistically exactly like the back of your mind
Research and radios, divide my world at best
Peanut butter relationships, no kids, no food, no pets
Adequate understanding, ample cigarettes
Blame it on the brunette

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