Saturday, January 3, 2009
Prospekt's March/Poppyfields
Apaixonei-me por esta música!
Smoke is rising from the houses
People burying their dead
I ask somebody what the time is
But time doesn't matter to them yet
People talking without speaking
Trying to take what they can get
I ask you if you remember
Prospekt, how could I forget?
Drums, here it comes
Don't you wish your life could be as simple
As fish swimming around in a barrel
Where you've got the gun
Oh, and I run...
Here it comes
We're just two little figures in a soup bowl
Trying to get beyond a kind of control
But I wasn't one
Now here I lie on my own in a separate sky
And here I lie on my own in a separate sky
I don't wanna die on my own here tonight
But here I lie on my own in a separate sky
