Texty:
Brazil

This is the maze of life This is the maze of death This is the matrix of eternity The demon never sleeps The demon never lies He beats my heart and leaves

It's 1 o'clock on a Friday morning I'm trying to keep my back from the wall The prophets and their pawns have had another success And I'm wondering why

candle is blue could see me through but I'm color blind they tell me it's blue and I'm a believer that's why I'm blind live on the freeway listen to signs

When you drive a nail through all that's good, the carpenter becomes the wood. If my concentration sounds like wreckage, it's 'cause I got a new feeling

I live in a hotel must keep writing if I'm to be better than everyone else like figure skating like asphyxiating on your own seeping fumes you're just

we are the high street service trays coming to take you away pasadena 1968 with speed on your breakfast plate aunt cancer calls them happy pills they

In the tall grass of a long sun a quiet repast and I'm sweet nothings Come hell, I'm your lover, your man, your friend, your fair weather It's a world

How long will you wait for me to come around? And wouldn't it be great if everything worked out? I wouldn't come home late after hiding out. I'd tell

now she's milk and she's apples you're scotch and segregation lips like molasses you're smiling saccharine sidewalks crashing the car just to make a