turn into terracesnwalking through fencesnI never knew you werenI got so lost, alonenthe same shapes appear againndriving me round the bendnnI'm always caught in the webnmade up of needle and threadnI'm always caughtnnthe houses stretch on for milesnlike department store shopping aislesnclean up on railroad onenkingsway is out of stocknnI'm always caught in the webnmade up of needle and threadnI'm always caught.nnour road is out of here