Žodžiai dainai: The Cult. Gimmick.

There's a whisper in the wires, no love
Of a black train-a-comin', no love
From the heart of the desert, no love
And the rhythm's not my hometown

My eyes are open, no love
Watching for the train, no love, no love
Just a breath across the ocean
Feel no love, if it flies it dies

Flags into a pocket, no love
We're standing on a platform, feel no love
In everyone a hook line, no love, no love
Against me making time, feel no love

Whisper in the wires, no love
Of a black train-a-comin', no love, no love
From the heart of the desert, no love
And the rhythm's not my hometown

And the rhythm's not my hometown
I feel no love
And the rhythm's not my hometown