Motorcycles do figure eights, on the forecourt by the multiplex.

Phone sex via application, the dull swagger of intimidation.



The rush of cunfusion

Replaced by comprehension



Pixellated punishment

Desire's the only crime

The calmness of the pack

Whose power is in decline

These violent dreams are nothing new

Don't think that she won't leave you



Here come

The animals

Two by Two

Makes my body feel wet through



High-pitched MCs

Digital thrill

The drunks vibrate

The beat seeps through

Wound-down car windows

On the corner of the Banlieue



Here come

The animals



Here come

The animals

Two by Two

Makes my body feel wet through



Here come

The animals



We've been told that we can take it

Everything we ever wanted.



We've been told that we can take it

Everything we ever wanted.