The Flats

Eletric Lights

If static is just forming some chords in some walls
I am static without the ends
And every breath of hers was a thorn of desire
And every petal was blushing red

It's on my fingertips
And my electric light's becoming electric again

A New Years harvesting in Elysium fields
And everyone is up on the shore
They're taking you again, again and again
My friend they can take no more

It's on my fingertips
And my electric light's becoming electric again

A New Years harvesting in Elysium fields
And everyone is up on the shore

It's on my fingertips
And my electric light's becoming electric again