Incinerator - Sam Phillips

Incinerator, what have you done this time?

I heard the air raid siren go off

To settle attraction, you like to subdivide

Don’t you want shelter from your desire?

A place to hide

Incinerator, this is not about sex

It’s about a personal scent

You like to watch me and I like to disappear

Electrical contact, a broken Tass of the Stratosphere

Incinerator, go on and go right through me

Have your search and tell me what you find

That I’m made of fire and you’ll never get to me

I don’t have your number, 'cause I can’t count to eternity

Incinerator