She’s a sadness in your hotel
She’s a whisper in your sheets
She’s a heavy hollow sound as we rip around bone dry dunes
There is heat out on my window
As I settle in my seat
In the wake of burning petrol she will wait for me There’s a chance that you could miss her
If you centre the right lines
But she’ll pull you to a stupor when her timings right
Slippery slope,
Hands on the console
As we rip around bone dry dunes
It’s a strange and empty future
With her holding all you keep
The days grow hot and longer seeing her grip increase As she reaches her crescendo
I am gutted on the ground
I can hardly move a muscle to that haunting sound
Slippery Slope
Hands on the console
As we rip around bone dry dunes I’m losing my grip
Hands on the carpetAs we rip around bone dry dunes
