Here he comes right to your house
|
not through door, right through the wall.
|
He's a nomad and intruder
|
Spilling merry on your floor
|
What will now happen?
|
Well it already did!
|
And the table right in the middle
|
It got almighty flipped
|
|
Is it voice of the eternal?
|
Is it hand of the unseen?
|
came as nomad and intruder
|
with a pair of wooden sticks
|
And said, "Hey brothers
|
How is it napping on wagon full of hay?
|
Don't mind me, I'll be just a-startin'
|
Here fire in old-fashioned way"
|
We'll be starting starting fire
|
in an old fashioned way
|
With ain't no nothin'
|
Just take it all away
|
With two wood sticks and some hay
|
|
Well, I'll be leaving now, my friends
|
following the Springs
|
you can usually profound me
|
in between of my wings . . .
|
|
-----------------
|
Voi-La Intruder
|
| Gogol Bordello |