When cushions were softer

Go for the balls, just go
Go for the balls, make sure he's wounded
Half of the world will know
How bad it must hurt

A spitting resistance
Within kissing distance
With a dream behind laughter
Of when cushions were softer

You sit by the door as ashtrays get filled
With millions of axes, but no one to kill
You babble non-stop about your vision of hell:
That all pain produced reproduces itself

And then go for the balls, just go
Go for the balls, make sure he's wounded
Half the world will know
Half of the world will seem astounded
Go for the balls, just go
Make sure that he's hurt

And still by the fire escape you'd turn,
Lose ambition and choose to burn
As through ashes design your curse:
You're a love song in slow reverse

If your heart bursts in Ferris wheels
And your nerves strain in sunlit fields…
We all have to learn how to heal:
You - the opposite of a shield -

Go for the balls, just go
Go for the balls, make sure he's wounded
Half of the world will know
Half of the world will seem astounded

Go for the balls, just go
Go for the balls 'til you hear the scream
Then go for your heart, just go
And return to the dream

Of when cushions were softer
(Back in the day)
When cushions were softer.
(A long, long time ago)