| The notion of a pile against
|
| My leaking spittle innocence
|
| My innocence
|
| Tons o' luck, your kiss with tongues
|
| Laid back contact what you want
|
| Is it boy?
|
| Imitate these soldier’s eyes
|
| Who dares wins to TV light
|
| And it’s a flame untied
|
| For such a lame denial
|
| Tonight
|
| A people’s talking history
|
| Some flat and yellow infancy
|
| And is it fate?
|
| A holiday but not that great
|
| A gross mistake?
|
| But speak it ease my Django
|
| Speak it ease my tongue
|
| (What you want, what you want)
|
| I reckon you my hero
|
| I reckon you my song
|
| (What you want, what you want)
|
| I’m speaking of the tango
|
| Speaking of the one
|
| (One you want, one you want)
|
| (What you want, what you want)
|
| Reckon you’ll find what you want
|
| Look and you’ll find fun
|
| (What you want, what you want)
|
| And now I’m fair with a life
|
| That no one can find
|
| Thinking of a place to ride
|
| A guillotine, my state of mind
|
| A selfish thing to do, bizarrely
|
| There’s no one you can use
|
| And it’s calling
|
| To a status, that I must choose
|
| Speak it ease my Django
|
| Speak it ease my tongue
|
| (What you want, what you want)
|
| I reckon you my hero
|
| Reckon you my song
|
| (What you want, what you want)
|
| I’m speaking of the one you want
|
| Speaking of the one
|
| (One you want, one you want)
|
| (Upsilon, Upsilon)
|
| Reckon you my hero
|
| Reckon you my fun
|
| (What you want, what you want)
|
| Deep in my work I can limp
|
| There in the Nile of my wrist
|
| Deep in the soil of my ribs
|
| Deep in my work I can live
|
| (Upsilon, Upsilon)
|
| There in the Nile of my wrist
|
| (Upsilon, Upsilon)
|
| Deep in the soil of my ribs
|
| (Upsilon, Upsilon)
|
| Wherever denial can exist
|
| (Upsilon, Upsilon)
|
| And deep in my work, I can limp
|
| (Upsilon, Upsilon)
|
| There in the Nile of my wrist
|
| (Upsilon, Upsilon)
|
| There in the soil of my ribs
|
| (Upsilon, Upsilon)
|
| Wherever denial can exist
|
| (Upsilon, Upsilon)
|
| (Upsilon, Upsilon)
|
| I can limp |