There's a suit in your basement, Boy
A dress in your closet, Girl
Dust it off, put it on
Dust it off, put it on
Dust it off, put it on
Dust it off

There's a suit in your coffin, Boy
But there is no body there
A dress in your eyelids, Girl
But no one to buy it

It turns me on, To hear your songs,
It turns me on

It turns me on, To hear your songs,
It turns me on

I want the Earth to touch me, Finally (?)
I need the air so I can breathe

What if we are the weak,
What if the art could come true,
What if our sound could be,
The Earth your eyes can see

Wondering,
We are a product of the Sun,
We're not the art we could become