The brain rattles and booms as the nerves run around A tsunami collapses synapses and floods out
The mouth is dry, a smile cracking the corners The eyes lay motionless, bound in borders
This feeling comes in waves, rushing and fleeting too
It all goes to the Junkman and he makes it new
Take me back to the cold floor A belly yearning for more Give me the simpler times when I had few Take me back to the Junkman So he can make me new
When all I had was "Flash Gordon" on cassette When we were dirty but we were set When we'd get into trouble, naively believing Before I had stubble, naively seeing
Give me back the holes in my shoe
Give me back to the Junkman so he can make me new.