Got them bones spread out on the dance floor chompin bits on the way to
the supermarket- well respected well received the piano and the luggage
own the reason that we all are faking it scene two got an itchy feeling
pets are trapped in give the voice a document to photograph those still
life images.

Chorus:
You can t make me talk fire couldn t make me talk is anyone whose anyone
is anybody listening
You can t make me talk fire couldn t make me talk they came in through the
window in the basement

I waited around for the clock for these dirty words take hold of my tongue
while I m pressing it down against the floor of my mouth there s a pulse
in every drop of history space is allotted for the questioner at small
things the smallest things that could ever be stole briefcases hold a
piece of this a broken arm a ratchet hand.

Move right to the bushes with a light bulb overhead

Bury your knife