作曲 : Viola
作词 : Viola
  I have crossed the mystic desert
 To snap pictures of the poor
 I've invited them to brunch
 Let them crash out on my floor
 
 There's sunshine in my veins
 My kitchen's filled with flies
 I'm crying out in vain
 Like a little African child
 
 Trapped in me
 There's an African child
 Trapped in me
 There's a little African child
 Trapped in me
 
 All these rooms are cluttered
 With the spoils of my fame
 My doors and windows shut
 I just can't keep out the rain
 
 There's sunshine down in hell
 My kitchen's filled with flies
 I'm crying out for help
 Like a little African child
 
 Trapped in me
 There's an African child
 Trapped in me
 There's a little African child
 Trapped in me
 
 All these blow jobs in limousines
 And why do they matter?
 What do they mean?
 To the little African child
 Trapped in me
 
 [Foreign content]
 
 African child
 Trapped in me
 There's an African child
 Trapped in me
 
 There's a little African child
 Trapped in me
 There's a little African child
 Trapped in me
 There's a little African child
 Trapped in me