Counters

We're not numbers

We're not numbers anymore

We're the counters

We're not numbers anymore

We're not numbers

We're not numbers anymore

We're the counters

We're the counters

It seems that all the milk's gone sour

And I can't believe my eyes

I drank to put me out of my misery

cruel to be kind

The sweat has dried into my shirt

and I tried to bite my tongue

I know you think that I am joking around

you've got that wrong, wrong, wrong

Sitting in the front seat

Turning on the motor

Sucking on the hose pipe

Keep it turning over

It seems that everything's gone wrong

Since you entered my life

For me to stay here would be a bad idea

And thats not so nice, nice, nice

Sitting in the front seat

Turning on the motor

Sucking on the hose pipe

Keep it turning over

Keep it turning over