Emotional morons
Knows from instinct what to do
The winds are northern
This is the sound we persue
You never know it
What we carry around inside
We never show it
But we carry it for life
Down on the square
All my friends are there
We don't mind
When the sun don't shine
You'll see it upon arrival
We've been beautiful '' suicidal
We don't mind
Smoke is rising a sattelite
For every tent in the snow
Of the TV in cities of 70's cement civilisation...
No real need for a God hybernation.
We all wake up by March
Down on the square
All my friends are there