|
Black flags with your fingers as their sign in the subways |
|
They show me the right path into your home, in the city's depth |
|
Down here are the villages of hope for the artists |
|
Their caves, wich the trains never can reach, so |
|
I go by foot |
|
Rainbows in the sewer rising just like me |
|
I'll live in the hollows near you to plant our subway tree |
|
Stumbling in your foot step traces only |
|
I alone have the might to reaad your black flags, to know where to go |
|
Targets 'round your brests and 'round your belly button |
|
Tatooed like myself at the same points. |
|
It's the same motif |
|
You shoot me your views under my skin through my circles |
|
Radio, I received things that |
|
I missed, |
|
Is this higher love? |
|
Suck me through the sewer, in my heart your key |
|
I'll live in the hollows near you to plant our subway tree |
|
Stumbling in your foot step traces, only |
|
I alone have the might to read your black flags, to know where to go |
|
Give me your higher love and receive my higher love! |
|
Gypsies cross my way, they say: "Join our Cave Bells Cult then we will save your body's health" |
|
No my direction is soul |
|
My cure is when |
|
I come to my deepest love |
|
Suck me through the sewer, in my heart your key |
|
I will be the only brightness for you and our tree |
|
Stumbling in your foot step traces, only |
|
I alone have the might to read your black flags, to know where to go |