Metrosphere 2004-2005
It's Heat!
Fuck! St. Louis!
This guy tells me he saw Iggy Pop once. I wish I saw Iggy Pop.
I wish I could rule like the summer heat.
Twist like the hotness from my street at dusk.
Smell the warmness of his skin.
Beg for a taste of his musk.
It's heat! It's heat! It's heat!
Tripping in the stairwell
You fall, you bleed, you learn.
I think in a dream, I sat next to Lou Reed on the L.
Slipping, slipping. I can't hold on.
Maybe Jarvis was there too.
Scary eyes, the men with scary eyes
Peel clothes, strip the nylon
Expose slick white thighs
It's heat! It's heat! It's heat!
You saw it! I know.
Lying in the gutter, there was Richard Hell.
Why can't I sing like the steam from the street?
Is that what it really feels like?
Bursting up, sweat like my skin burns
I taste for the beat
And spin around twice to wait my turn.
It's heat! It's heat! It's heat!
Exposure. It's direct light.
In the corner booth, there was my friend Julian.
It spills between my legs, hot hurts.
He smiles, and his crooked teeth
They make me choke
Blow it in my face
I hate it when he smokes.
It's heat! It's heat! It's heat!
Fuck! You burn.
Where is all the greatness? Is he still there?
We don't even know it.
There I was, inside the hot house.
We burn like cigarettes.
We rule like summer heat.
We expose, we peel clothes.
We are the beat.
And if there's enough, we'll choke.
It's heat! It's heat! It's heat!