- cifra
So I lay down
Under the town and start a fight
Against the moonlight
Against the moonlight
Every single day
I put a spell on the Sun
And say hey
How is it going?
To the clouds next door
Pick up the hurry
Hurried fluid
Hurried thought
Smashing my head
Exploding veins
Squeeze it
Squeeze it
Into the white peacock
Oh, oh, ooh
