im in the mood for a rumble a loud one often im told i overdo it but here i am brooding and without warning it all swells up in my crater im a little volcano who seems nice but if i you push me too close to the edge lava lava lava will come out lava lava lava there will be and i will explode chorus like a bat out of hell it explodes without me even trying to stop the elephant at the door of the china shop why would i want to control politely polish my bitter sweet rough edges nice round vowels without the gift of the gab are not worth much to me its the paradoxes the contrasts the shades of grey and all the rest that gave me my character storms storms will come storms storms storms there will be in my atmosphere chorus but when your hands like flamingos wings embrace my porcelain cheeks love love love there is love love love there will be in s t o r e