Too much eye make up
Free ketchup
Honoring the dish
Respecting the gas
Everyone just staring
Tricks of the trade
Waiting for our ride
No soap in the toilets
Security guards at the door
Look at that caveman go
French Mexican
Push through
Push through
We don’t know what we’re doing
Just doing what we do
Fault pas poussez
MeMe des orties
Surtout elle n’a pas de coulettes
Girls like dolls
Boys like soldiers
Women like soldiers
Men like dolls
Those trees look like monkeys
The branches are arms with fists
Let’s cross the border
Let’s border the crosses
Like a mouth that could feed
Itsself with words
Or a heart that could feed
Itsself with blood
Imagine a world that
Could make itsself happy
We enter the tumnel dry
We leave the tunnel wet
We enter the tunnel wet
We leave the tunnel soft and relaxed
We slowly slowly slooowly
Scrape the paper
For some good news
It will come
Do not worry
The day we stop singing
About wine and cigarettes
It will come
Boom
Like a baby on the floor
We will lift it up and gold it
In our arms
(This poem was originally recited on November 15, at Gonzo in Zurich, Switzerland )
