Turn On the Light

I had a friend who kept a candle in his pocket,

He used to touch it when the wind was blowing high,

I guess it made him feel like he could buck the system

And when it flickered out we laid him down to die,



  Turn on the light,

  Turn on a million blinding brilliant white incendiary lights, (yeah)

  A beacon in the night,

  I'll burn relentlessly until my juice runs dry, (yeah)



I'll construct a rack of tempered beams and trusses

And equip it with a million tiny suns,

I'll install upon the room of my compartment

And place tinfoil on my floor and on my walls then I'll



  Turn on the light,

  Turn on a million blinding brilliant white incendiary lights, (yeah)

	A beacon in the night,

  I'll burn relentlessly until my juice runs dry,



    And I'll burn like a roman fucking candle

	       burn like a chasm in the night

		   burn for a miniscule duration,

			  ecstatic immolation, incorrigible delight


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