The sound of God is the screech of tires, lights and magnets, bolts and wires, strayed from the road, this very one

Still to come, the sound of tires is the sound of God, the electric version

The power and blood will pulse through your song, just as long as it sounds lost, streaming out of the magnets

Strung together like Christmas lights, twelve whole seconds of history might lead you from where you went off the track welcome back

Our electric version calls, you alone create the full spectrum of light, so what could go wrong? Just as long as it sounds lost, streaming out of the magnets

The card you're dealt by the crowd goes wild, make believe you are an only child

Here are the clothes, please put them on

Still to come, a new parade of faith and sparks, the electric version harks back to the day when there was no wrong just as long as it sounds lost, streaming out of the magnets