Cornucopia

I loved you in the sunshine
You chase the moon with a spear
Tardy afternoons in utopia
Kiss an ugly turtle and make it cry

Sever the head of cornucopia
We rape the Earth and don't know why it strikes

Do you believe in stormy weather, stormy weather
Hurricanes play musical chairs with homes and chattel
The whirling dervish tornados reek all disaster
See-saw tsunamis, give and take, what's the matter?

I loved you in the sunshine
You chase the moon with a spear
I pray that you will be all mine
You foam at the mouth and disappear

Sever the head of cornucopia
We fuck the Earth and don't know why it cries

Do you believe in stormy weather, stormy weather
Hurricanes play musical chairs with homes and chattel
The whirling dervish tornados reek all disaster
See-saw tsunamis, give and take, what's the matter?

I loved you in the sunshine
You chase the moon with a spear
I pray that you will be all mine
You foam at the mouth and disappear

We broke our pact
And away we go
To another place
Home
Where we call home

Why do we disfigure all the things that are so beautiful inside
Where we compose the calamities for all to abide
Microcosm, macrocosm are the same
What a lame game

Don't you think we're extraordinary?
Believing and seeing
Realizing the imaginary
Don't you, don't you?
Yes, I think we're extraordinary
Being and living
Yes, I think we ought to marry

We broke our pact
And away we go
To another place

I loved you in the sunshine
You chase the moon with a spear
I pray that you will be all mine
You foam at the mouth and disappear

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Meanwhile

She sparkles, she dazzles, she lights up the room We walk together to a table for two Every man stares but her eyes are only for me We take to the dance floor,

Верблюди

Один верблюд сказав колезі верблюду: - Хау ду ю ду! Хау ду ю ду-ду-ду! Як ся подобає пустеля вам оця? Куди не глянь - ні краю, ні кінця! - Я з вами згоден, -

Пасхальна

День наступає, ніч помирає І залишаються спогади, знаю День

ZOGland

It was Aryan land, holy ancestors soil And if enemies came, my forefathers drew swords But the centuries passed Gold ate swords worse than rust. Sheath is empty, cartridge is blank Who is guilty,

That, That Is Ii: Crossfire

(Anderson/Squire) Julie's sick and tired of her job n' all the reasons lately She took it out on God and laid her soul to hell and let the baby die Julie's child was born