|
Icy waters flow between us |
|
In shelf life shock in the morning |
|
I see rivers split to deltas |
|
And trickle into the ocean |
|
With my bow and my arrow |
|
I will aim towards my atlas |
|
And where I hit I'll go |
|
And in my chosen location |
|
I will croon a sorry sermon |
|
And tune my bass to D.E.A.D. |
|
Ooooh |
|
Live volcanoes turn to craters |
|
When their egos turn into space dust |
|
Teleport me from this vacuum |
|
I've some contraband information |
|
With my bow and my arrow |
|
I will aim towards my atlas |
|
And where I hit I'll go |
|
And in my chosen location |
|
I will croon a sorry sermon |
|
And tune my bass to D.E.A.D. |
|
Ooooh |
|
La la la la la la |
|
(Just get out of my space!) (X8) |
|
With my bow and my arrow |
|
I will aim towards my atlas |
|
And where I hit I'll go |
|
And in my given location |
|
I will croon a sorry sermon |
|
And tune my bass to L.U.V.? |
|
Ooooh |
