When in the prop of the morning,nwith the traffic and the canon lightsnon and on 'till the eveningnwith its thick and orange lightnand now we nervous walk herenthe whole city tried to eat itselfnyou kill some track to zeronworking hard just to get yourselfnnsometimes I can't get it startednback from nothingnsometimes I can't get it startednnit is a mass productionnall the blank little minutes alignnon and on 'till the eveningnwhere it's black and orange lightnand now we nervous walk herenswinging arms like satellitesnand now we're nervous walkingnuntil the body won't sleep through the nightnnsometimes I can't get it startednback from nothingnsometimes I can't get it startednsometimes I can't get it startednback from nothingnsometimes I can't get it startednnwhere we lies is a little burnednspinning aroundndon't they know that the hours move slow?nnand I can't get it startednand I can't get it startednand I can't get it startednand I can't get it startednnwhere we lies is a little burnednspinning aroundndon't they know that the hours move slow?nslow?n