The whine in your hand is worth two at the barnAnd everybody knows what you've been drinkingnGraceful night flecked with a nightgown of starsnAnd everybody knows what you've been thinkingnnLong distance century buzzes and fadesnAn automatic charge on your mindnPreviews processions and paradesnWe've got to grind, grind it outnnLine up the arrows, push off the topnThis can cause sustain forevernAnd once it's started up, it cannot be stoppednBut it's holding us togethernnLong distance century buzzes and fadesnI wonder why we've not resignednThe glittering minutes, jangled decadesnWe've got to grind, grind it outnnLong distance century buzzes and fadesnBetter take all that you can findnLift me up into those whirling bladesnI've got to grind, grind it outnI've got to grind, grind it outnWe've got to grind, grind it outnWe've got to grind