There's a suit in your basement, Boy A dress in your closet, Girl Dust it off, put it on Dust it off, put it on Dust it off, put it on Dust it off There's a suit in your coffin, Boy But there is no body there A dress in your eyelids, Girl But no one to buy it It turns me on, To hear your songs, It turns me on It turns me on, To hear your songs, It turns me on I want the Earth to touch me, Finally (?) I need the air so I can breathe What if we are the weak, What if the art could come true, What if our sound could be, The Earth your eyes can see Wondering, We are a product of the Sun, We're not the art we could become