| Beetles and eggs and blues and pour a little everything else
|
| You steam a lens stable eyes and glass
|
| Not get pissed off through my bird lips as good news
|
| Still we can find our love down from behind
|
| Down far behind this fabulous, my turn rules
|
| Beetles and eggs and blues and bells and eggs and then blued
|
| Beetles and eggs and blues and pour a little everything else
|
| You steam a lens stable eyes and glass
|
| Not get pissed off through my bird lips as good news
|
| You’ll hang the hearts black and dull as the night
|
| We hanged your pass and start being as you in ecstasy
|
| Still being cried and laughed at before
|
| Should I be sewn in hugged I can by not saying
|
| Still being cried and laughed at from light to blue
|
| And should I be hugged and tugged down through this tiger’s masque?
|
| And should I be sung and unbroken by not saying?
|
| You mind not saying
|
| He’ll hang that heart’s black and dull as the night
|
| Still being cried and laughed at from behind me, from gains
|
| We hanged your pass and star being as you in ecstasy
|
| Still being cried and laughed at from behind me, from gains
|
| Should I be sung and unbroken by not saying
|
| Still being cried and laughed at from behind me, from gains
|
| Hugged and tugged down through this tiger’s masque for key |