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Gary Numan
Gary Numan


Background information
Birth name Gary Anthony James Webb
Born March 8, 1958
Born place Hammersmith, West London, United Kingdom
Genre(s) Synthpop
New Wave
Electronic
Industrial Rock
Gothic Rock
Years active 1977—present
Label(s) Eagle Records
Atco Records
Beggars Banquet Records
Metropolis Records
Associated acts Nine Inch Nails
Fear Factory
Tubeway Army
Dramatis
Paul Gardiner
Shakatak
Website Website



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  G  →  Gary Numan  →  Albums  →  The Pleasure Principle

Gary Numan Album


The Pleasure Principle (1979)
1979
1.
Airlane
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
. . .

Airlane

[No lyrics]

. . .



We're in the building
Where they make us grow
And I'm frightened by
The liquid engineers
Like you.

My Mallory heart
Is sure to fail
I could crawl around the floor
Just like I'm real
Like you.

The sound of metal
I want to be
You
I could learn to be a man
Like you.

Plug me in
And turn me on
Oh everything is moving.

I need my treatment
It's tomorrow they send me
Singing 'I am an American'.
Do you?

Picture this
If I could make the change
I'd love to pull the wires from the wall
Did you?

And who are you
And how can I try
Here inside I like metal
Aren't you

All I know
Is no-one dies

. . .



They won't come back
You know it's always the same
And they're sure to forget
Saying, 'Everyone lies'

So I'm down to this
I'm down to walking on air
And you're here by my side
With all your waving and smiles

Please keep them away
Don't let them touch me
Please don't let them lie

. . .



I don't like the film
I don't like the film
Play it all back
Play it all back

And I don't like the scenery
And I don't like the set, so
Pull it all down
Pull it all down

But I like the actors
And I like the show

We're so exposed
We're so exposed
Anything can happen
Anything can happen

Don't let them see
Don't let them know
And you wonder why
And you wonder why

Turn off the lights

. . .



And M.E. I eat dust
We're all so run down
I'd call it my death
But I'll only fade away
And I hate to fade alone
Now there's only M.E.

We were so sure
We were so wrong
Now it's over
But there's no one left to see
And there's no one left to die
There's only M.E.

Why should I care?
Why should I try?
Oh no. Oh no.
I turn off the pain
Like I turned off you all

. . .



Where are the tracks
Where are the lines
Where are the tracks, dear
Where is the time

You we're so cold
You were so slow
And we were so old, dear
And we were unsure

And I want your lines
And I want your time
And I want your face, dear

. . .



I could stand here for days
Or I could stand here for hours
I could stand here for a lifetime
Watching you, and waiting always
I could observe you all

I could wait for a day
Or I could wait for an hour
I could wait here for a lifetime
Watching you, and thinking always

. . .



Oh it's so easy
When parts take over
My conversation
Is nothing more than lies

You're just the viewer
So cold and distant
I've no intentions
Of saying 'I love you'

My conversation

We are not gods
We are not men
We are not making claims
We are only boys

You are not strong
You are not force
You are not regular
You are just wrong

There are no faces
This is my complex
You are my picture
I call you mirrors

These are not my tears
Not my reflection
Am I a photo?
I can't remember


. . .



Here in my car
I feel safest of all
I can lock all my doors
It's the only way to live
In cars

Here in my car
I can only receive
I can listen to you
It keeps me stable for days
In cars

Here in my car
Where the image breaks down
Will you visit me, please
If I open my door
In cars

Here in my car
I know I've started to think
About leaving tonight
Although nothing seems right

. . .



All that we are
Is all that we need to be
All that we know
Is you and machinery
We're engineers

We are your heartbeat
We are your nightlife
We are your 'low-line'
We keep you alive. For now
We're engineers

We are your voice
We are your blood flow
We are your eyes
We're all you need to know
We're engineers

All that we are
Is all that you'd love to be
All that we know
Is hate and machinery

. . .


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