Black flags with your fingers as their sign in the subways
|
They show me the right path into your home,
|
in the city's depth
|
Down here are the villages of hope for the artists
|
Their caves, wich the trains never can reach,
|
so I go by foot
|
Rainbows in the sewer rising just like me
|
I'll live in the hollows near you to plant our subway tree
|
|
Stumbling in your foot step traces only I alone
|
have the might to reaad your black flags, to know where to go
|
|
Targets 'round your brests and 'round your belly button
|
Tatooed like myself at the same points.
|
It's the same motif
|
You shoot me your views under my skin through my circles
|
Radio, I received things that I missed, Is this higher love?
|
Suck me through the sewer, in my heart your key
|
I'll live in the hollows near you to plant our subway tree
|
|
Stumbling in your foot step traces, only I alone
|
have the might to read your black flags, to know where to go
|
|
Give me your higher love
|
and receive my higher love!
|
|
Gypsies cross my way, they say: "Join our Cave Bells Cult
|
then we will save your body's health"
|
No my direction is soul
|
My cure is when I come to my deepest love
|
Suck me through the sewer, in my heart your key
|
I will be the only brightness for you and our tree
|
|
Stumbling in your foot step traces, only I alone
|
have the might to read your black flags,
|
to know where to go
|
|
-----------------
|
Subway Tree
|
| Depressive Age |
