Schwervon!

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 )