Banlieue

Motorcycles do figure eights, on the forecourt by the multiplex.

Phone *** via application, the dull swagger of intimidation.

The rush of confusion

Replaced by comprehension

Pixellated punishment

Desire's the only crime

The calmness of the pack

Whose power is in decline

These violent dreams are nothing new

Don't think that she won't leave you

Here come

The animals

Two by Two

Makes my body feel wet through

High-pitched MCs

Digital thrill

The drunks vibrate

The beat seeps through

Wound-down car windows

On the corner of the Banlieue

Here come

The animals

Two by Two

Makes my body feel wet through

We've been told that we can take it

Everything we ever wanted