Removables - Manic Street Preachers

Conscience binds you in chains

Trail by stone hammer and nails

No- one made the holes but me

Misery mourns to be devoured

Killed God blood soiled unclean again

Killed God soiled skin dead again

Again everywhere again

All removables, all transitory

All removables, passing always

All removables, all transitory

All removables, passing always

Never grown preserved gently

A bronze moth dies easily

Unknown to others weak to me

Broken hands never ending

Aimless rut of my own perception

Numbly waiting for voices to tell me

For voices to tell me

All removables, all transitory

All removables, passing always

All removables, all transitory

All removables, passing always

All removables, all transitory

All removables, passing always