| To the noose, to the neck, to the boost, to the check
|
| To the micic, to the psychic, to the circuit
|
| To the games pays to blame
|
| To the freedom, make it rain, make it sane
|
| Make it dance, not a chance, see her run
|
| See her come, take her kindly
|
| She is dark eyed, no soul, no soul
|
| She is lifeline to the heartbeat
|
| Can’t feel the heartbeat
|
| To the flowers, to the bunches,
|
| To the lunches, to the punches
|
| To the noose, to the neck, to the boost, to the check
|
| To the micic, to the psychic, to the circuit
|
| To the games pays to blame
|
| To the freedom, make it rain, make it sane
|
| Make it dance, not a chance, see her run
|
| See her come, take her kindly
|
| She is dark eyed, no soul, no soul
|
| She is lifeline to the heartbeat
|
| Can’t feel the heartbeat
|
| To the flowers, to the bunches,
|
| To the lunches, to the punches
|
| To the good, to the clean
|
| And i’ll be you’re ugly
|
| To the occasion, to the lie
|
| Kiss beneath, bridge of size
|
| Not some moaning, until they homing
|
| And they spoil it all
|
| To the noose, to the neck, to the boost, to the check
|
| To the micic, to the psychic, to the circuit
|
| To the games pays to blame
|
| To the freedom, make it rain, make it sane
|
| Make it dance, not a chance, see her run
|
| See her come, take her kindly
|
| She is dark eyed, no soul, no soul
|
| She is lifeline to the heartbeat
|
| Can’t feel the heartbeat
|
| To the flowers, to the bunches,
|
| To the lunches, to the punches
|
| To the good, to the clean
|
| And i’ll be you’re ugly
|
| To the occasion, to the lie
|
| Kiss beneath, bridge of size
|
| Not some moaning, until they homing
|
| And they spoil it all
|
| Not some moaning, until they homing
|
| Not some moaning, until they homing
|
| To the good, to the clean
|
| And i’ll be you’re ugly
|
| To the occasion, to the lie
|
| Kiss beneath, bridge of size
|
| Not some moaning, until they homing
|
| Not some moaning, until they homing
|
| To the noose, to the neck, to the boost, to the check
|
| To the micic, to the psychic, to the circuit
|
| To the games pays to blame
|
| To the freedom, make it rain, make it sane
|
| Make it dance, not a chance, see her run
|
| See her come, take her kindly
|
| She is dark eyed, no soul, no soul
|
| She is lifeline to the heartbeat
|
| Can’t feel the heartbeat
|
| To the flowers, to the bunches,
|
| To the lunches, to the punches |