The Icicle Works
A Factory In The Desert
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