Invalid Litter Dept. Lyrics by At The Drive-In

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Intravenously polite it was the walkie-talkies
that had knocked the pins down
as their shoes gripped the dirt floor
in the silhouette of dying

dancing on the corpses ashes

yeah, they had plans for him
they had spun the last of the pimps
polyester, satin nailed jewellery lips
while the guillotine just slapped again

dancing on the corpses ashes

and the paramedics fell into the wound
like a rehired scab at a barehanded plant
an anesthetic penance beneath
the hail of the contraband

dancing on the corpses ashes

on my way
nails broke and fell
into the
wishing well, wishing well
wishing well, wishing well
[x2]

they had defected and been excommunicated
and all the pulses were subverted
and they made sure that the obituaries
showed pictures of smoke stacks

dancing on the corpses ashes

a vivid dissection that mocked
the strut of vivisection
a semi-automatic colony
and a silencing that still walks the streets

dancing on the corpses ashes

in the company of wolves
was a stretcher made of
cobblestone curfews
the federales perform
their custodial customs quite well

dancing on the corpses ashes

on my way
nails broke and fell
into the
wishing well, wishing well
wishing well, wishing well

intravenously polite it was the walkie-talkies
that had knocked the pins down
as their shoes lay dangling on dirt floor
in the silhouette of dying

dancing on the corpses ashes

yeah, they had plans for him
they had spun the last of the pimps
polyester, satin nailed jewellery lips
while the guillotine just slapped again

dancing on the corpses ashes

and the paramedics fell into the wound
like a rehired scab at a barehanded plant
an anesthetic penance beneath
the hail of the contraband

dancing on the corpses ashes

on my way
nails broke and fell
into the
wishing well, wishing well
wishing well, wishing well
[x4]
dancing on the corpse's ashes,
dancing on the corpse's ashes

callous heels
numbed in travel
endless maps made
by their scalpels scalpels

callous heels
numbed in travel
endless maps made
by their scalpels scalpels
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Invalid Litter Dept. Lyrics

Intravenously polite it was the walkie-talkies
that had knocked the pins down
as their shoes gripped the dirt floor
in the silhouette of dying

dancing on the corpses ashes

yeah, they had plans for him
they had spun the last of the pimps
polyester, satin nailed jewellery lips
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