The minute you walk with, is an hour to me,
its sweet and sour taste, kicks nostalgia
into a freefall, and makes a sand dune mine manure
naturals not in tune with pastels or truth more real life.
Dondastan clearwater renewal, love is the drug and
the slow dance, tranquil too pure, ok, ok, I see the snow.
So pure but my gun isn't loaded, gave up the victor manure.
Back to nature on a roundabout of pain, like the last follower
of their favourite game, no one standing at the last chance saloon,
one day we'll dance by the light of the moon,
the moon, the moon, the moon.