Ice-paved street, saved heat,
running low, running out.
We made this river a wall,
it's a natural drought.
But I can't feel a thing,
I can't feel a thing.
East blind to west, I confess
I've been tunneling through.
Waiting to meet him
in perfect positioning,
you know just what I'd do.
But I can't feel a thing,
I can't feel a thing,
not a thing.
