Feed the Enemy

It's always raining over the border There's been a plane crash out there In the wheatfields they're picking up the pieces We could go and look and stare How many friends have we over there? The border guards fight unconvincingly Whatever we do it seems things are arranged We always have to feed the enemy You could dance for me And punch me through You could dance for me And punch me through You could dance for me And punch me through You could dance for me And punch me through We watched them trash the last camera Glued to all our TV's The actors on the replay Trying again to touch you and me But they always seem to know Exactly what they're talking about They must've got you in a corner You've got no room to move You've got no room for doubt That's exactly what they're talking about They must've got you in a corner No room to move No room for doubt