Acetone Angels
Dreams in Technicolor have faded
Prepare to make a stand
The odds are long
And there is no mention
Of a favored to win
Made it out of the hairpin turn
The acetone angels asking why
Caught in cubicles and elevators
Always checking the watch for suicide
We've lost communication
We're out on our own
We've lost communication
We're out on our own
Where fools wouldn't go
Faraway stones skipping over this time
A willful dance in their wake
Bitter laughs for chances passed over
And flaming drink salesman on the make
Would tell you I cared and then some
But then I'd find you gone
The circus spits out hearts and minds
Sure as steam rises from a nuclear drum
We've lost communication
We're out on our own
We've lost communication
We're out on our own
Where fools wouldn't go
Where fools wouldn't go
Where fools wouldn't go