Lyrics: 25th Floor
Artist: Patti Smith
Album: Easter
Song: 25th Floor
Released: 1978
Rating:
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25th Floor lyrics
We explore the men's room
We don't give a shit
Ladies' lost electricity
Take vows inside of it
Desire to dance
Too startled to try
Wrap my legs 'round you
Starting to fly
Let's explore
Up there, up there, up there
On the twenty-fifth floor
Circle all around me
Coming for the kill, kill, kill
Oh kill me baby
Like a kamikaze
Heading for a spill
Oh but it's all spilt milk to me
Desire to dance
Too startled to try
Wrap my legs 'round you
Starting to fly
Let's soar
Up there, up there, up there
On the twenty-fifth floor
We do not eat
Flower of creation
We do not eat
Eat anything at all
Love is, love was, love is a manifestation
I'm waiting for a contact to call
Love's war, love's cruel
Love's pretty, love's pretty cruel tonight
I'm waiting here to refuel
I'm gonna make contact tonight
Love in my heart
The night to exploit
Twenty-five stories over Detroit
And there's more
Up there, up there, up there
Stoned in space, Zeus, Christ.
It has always been rock and so it is and so it shall be
Within the context of neo rock
We must open up our eyes and seize and rend the veil of smoke which man calls order.
Pollution is a necessary result of the inability of man to reform and transform waste.
The transformation of waste
The transformation of waste
The transformation of waste
The transformation of waste is perhaps the oldest pre-occupation of man.
Man being the chosen alloy
He must be reconnected via shit, at all cost.
Inherent with us is the dream of the task of the alchemist to create from the clay of man
And to recreate from excretion of man pure and then soft and then solid gold.
We don't give a shit
Ladies' lost electricity
Take vows inside of it
Desire to dance
Too startled to try
Wrap my legs 'round you
Starting to fly
Let's explore
Up there, up there, up there
On the twenty-fifth floor
Circle all around me
Coming for the kill, kill, kill
Oh kill me baby
Like a kamikaze
Heading for a spill
Oh but it's all spilt milk to me
Desire to dance
Too startled to try
Wrap my legs 'round you
Starting to fly
Let's soar
Up there, up there, up there
On the twenty-fifth floor
We do not eat
Flower of creation
We do not eat
Eat anything at all
Love is, love was, love is a manifestation
I'm waiting for a contact to call
Love's war, love's cruel
Love's pretty, love's pretty cruel tonight
I'm waiting here to refuel
I'm gonna make contact tonight
Love in my heart
The night to exploit
Twenty-five stories over Detroit
And there's more
Up there, up there, up there
Stoned in space, Zeus, Christ.
It has always been rock and so it is and so it shall be
Within the context of neo rock
We must open up our eyes and seize and rend the veil of smoke which man calls order.
Pollution is a necessary result of the inability of man to reform and transform waste.
The transformation of waste
The transformation of waste
The transformation of waste
The transformation of waste is perhaps the oldest pre-occupation of man.
Man being the chosen alloy
He must be reconnected via shit, at all cost.
Inherent with us is the dream of the task of the alchemist to create from the clay of man
And to recreate from excretion of man pure and then soft and then solid gold.
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