What’s that sound?
Like an aeroplane coming down
Like every banshee in every hill
Uniting in one diabolical yell
They said we’re eight miles down
And we’re eight miles down
We don’t know much
But we know what we like
A particular chord
When you strike it just right
This is the brain
It’s the centre of all our pain
Where every banshee in every hill
Is uniting in one diabolical yell
They said we’re eight miles down
And we’re eight miles down
We don’t know much
But we know what we like
A particular chord
When you strike it just right
We’ve been here all along
We sing our lonely song
First in on every sigh
Lions and tigers and bears oh my Stop making a stand
(turn it up, turn it up)
Take matters in hand
(turn it up, turn it up)
We’ve sung the first hit already
Flip it over again
(turn it up, turn it up)
We’re eight miles down
We’re eight miles down
We don’t know much
But me we know what we like
A particular chord
When you strike it just right
First in on every sigh
Lions and tigers and bears oh my Stop making a stand
(turn it up, turn it up)
Take matters in hand
(turn it up, turn it up)
We’ve sung the first hit already
Flip it over again
(turn it up, turn it up)
(turn it up, turn in up, turn it up!)
Stop making a stand
(turn it up, turn it up)
Take matters in hand
(turn it up, turn it up)
Here we are at the end already
Flip it over again
(turn it up, turn it up)
(turn it up, turn it up, turn it.)