|
Here's the spray set for the ozon health |
|
and the glasses to see 'round all corners and bends |
|
My mind is happy, thinking 'bout a ball |
|
and at the same time the media spits out |
|
the reality of war |
|
So it's rust in all the cells |
|
Santa Claus wipes the jingle bells |
|
Never their harmonies reach old charme |
|
Guns sending their greetings without alarms |
|
Peace for hip waste, business called love |
|
cigarette strength, beauty on the rocks |
|
Internet freaks work with holy trends |
|
'til four ill seasons, working at the same time, |
|
are the last thing on earth what's left |
|
So it's rust in all the cells |
|
Santa Claus wipes the jingle bells |
|
Never their harmonies reach old charme |
|
Bombs sending their greetings without alarms |