I met some beurocrats, and sophistos
Most of them were druggies, but you get the gist though
Do the math, do the math
I met some teachers, and professors
It was heathen they were after
Read the map, read the map
I met an Italian, and a jew
They don't look a bit like you
You are clearly in my view
With right right eyes wide open
Or digging for the horoscope
I met a whore, I met a dentist
They both couldn't tell me where time went
I met a boy I saw some toys
There was a plan, without ploy
Then I stumbled at the creekside, and saw you were at his side
I could handle the truth, I did not hide
Well in all honesty I wanted to know what time it is
It's his, It's his
Leaving the scene quite pissed
I hit the local bar, and talked to a farmer
The crops were late, did I want an orange
Grey skies turned to blue
How about you, how about you
Then I hit on the news reporter
And someone said you're getting older
I said Napoleon was manic-depressive
That is how he conceived of all the strategies
And you repressed me
Adding to a labyrinth
Övriga genrer (Visa/Sångtext)
av Page Goldenboy
Publicerad 2025-12-02 15:16
Softicecream
Snyggt flow :)
2025-12-02