Factory in the Desert - The Icicle Works

It rolls in like a cold wind,

It fills me up with fear,

The icy fingers clutch me,

With each motion that I hear,

Though diligence caress me,

Deliverance unfold,

The distant bells are ringing,

In a small town in my soul

Dream up, dream up,

Let me fill your cup,

I promise you the world

I promise you the world,

I’ll love you as a factory in the desert

While trying to obsess me,

Her confidence falls down,

I have to steal this moment to,

Observe her wistful frown,

But her logic is a jungle,

Insecurity roams wild,

The laughter’s ever present,

In the camp of the beguiled.

Dream up, dream up,

Let me fill your cup,

I promise you the world

I promise you the world,

I’ll love you as a factory in the desert

Come to me, come to me, come to me,