I'm lost, hearing all the things we say, looks like another day of wasting life. I ned a simple place where I can go and
My hippie boy don't want to be a man, My hippie boy don't want to understand, My hippie boy lives in a Volkswagon van. Hippie
When the man spoke, the people listened And they followed him to death I was the closest to him And this I must confess
the scene can dream all the flowers in bloom. This garden will stay here and hold me for sister moon. Higher we fly to her worship the crying monsoon
Its not hard to reach back to the day underneath an Iowa sun running to the tower of Waterloo looking for the Sullivan train
I didn't know if this was right. But I'll remember this night for the rest of my life You'd never hurt me the way I hurt myself.
I think I'll try my luck at Flo and Normandie and have some dude beat the living crap out of me he haunts me, he taunted me
Busy, busy, I'm so busy, I've got no time for you. Sleazy, sleazy, you say I'm sleazy for all the things I put you through.
I'm a necropheliac and I'm all right I work it all day, work all night I'm a necropheliac looking for reaction my deviancy
I could have died maybe I should have died when I saw you walk inside and has you shut the door I put my eyes back on the floor when
Translation: Caroline's Spine. Monsoon.
