Letra de TYPEWRITER

<1st line missing> (their polluted cars) The vehicle became a molten colour and of a material yet to be discovered. Mesmerising to the occu-pants with the properties of steel, yet supple. It's tough luck on those that they happen across but then who gives a toss? The boss forgot to check the seals on the hatches next (thereby they'll grasp some sleep buy matches). <music tape> Parabola spacecraft crammed with four, infiltrated near Mars by large abundant caterpillars, full and wriggling with blind translucent round suckers and tall hairs, about my size. The back of the ship drops off. <music tape> MES: ballroom stairs, haloed red, people miming, the lyrics blasted overhead from top of them to downstairs wholesale, disc jockey between click track point oh-one-five raffling non-existent prize. All present are in league with Piccadilly Records. Now I must act or go crackers my rest consists of sleep debt snatches