Walking in the city I found a bubblegun. My bubblegun, tutti frutti one!. And it's "plack plack plack plack plack" like a machinegun!. . Bubbles of my bubblegun.
Crossing the ocean through a waveform. Feel the wind, go upwind. Following the waves to reach the chant of your magnificent voice. Time and space are fractionating.
Walking home alone I crossed the 13th street. Confused by the fog I saw some rats with wings. They stopped, looked back at me and flew all around. Twisting, whining so loud towards the town.
Suddenly I start to know. What really happens to me. New chance, new changes. Better not to lose it again. I'll tell you I'm a liar. What else more should I be?.
All that I see, a world rendered classless, industry useless, musically faithless, pathetic excuse for your art and time, riding their coattails so watch me use mine..
Too old for young dying, not from lack of trying. Too old for amends, all fleeting my friends. Fresh blood. White waves. Fresh blood. White waves. Fresh blood.
Held me down like a good one can. Now a weekend maintenance plan. Working on repairs, phone blowing up now everyone cares. Break the TV, save the radio, all my heroes I already know.
Look at me, look at me with the Stardust. I put it on so you wanna stay with me. I don't know why it is, or why you love her so much. But you've been talking about her.
Years. They've past me by like thorns. Digging deep and feeding sores. Sorrow behind closed doors. But that's not me anymore. . In a fight for who I am.
Cuantas ilusiones rotas. Cuanto amor vagan por la calle. Hay historias con amor. Y otros lloran de coraje. . Alguien vino arrepentido. No quisieron perdonarle.