The country lost their beauty queen
The same day passed the Prince of Pleasure
Televisions will capture the red eyes of gravediggers
And the dried
The prunes and the oppressed
Smoking cigarette butts down to the ground
Mutiny will be on layaway
Shooting in streets and dying local band posters
The road lion growls
Police stay home, your brothers in arms will die.
So it goes. How useful is that?
Up came the sun, down went the stars.
The water calmed still, and loud were the cars.
English Translators dance in Russian studios.
Loudspeakers play the silent songs nobody knows.
The woman in the yellow beaded necklace plays with her silver rings rolling across her white fingers.
Wafting down the black nighttime cool air you can hear the rhythm choir of a thousand black children
singers.
That’s my town.
Isn’t great.
I’ll show you the strangest kid I know.
Purple, red, fast and yellow.
Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 5:49 PM UTC
The country lost their beauty queen
The same day passed the Prince of Pleasure
Televisions will capture the red eyes of gravediggers
And the dried
The prunes and the oppressed
Smoking cigarette butts down to the ground
Mutiny will be on layaway
Shooting in streets and dying local band posters
The road lion growls
Police stay home, your brothers in arms will die.
So it goes. How useful is that?
Up came the sun, down went the stars.
The water calmed still, and loud were the cars.
English Translators dance in Russian studios.
Loudspeakers play the silent songs nobody knows.
The woman in the yellow beaded necklace plays with her silver rings rolling across her white fingers.
Wafting down the black nighttime cool air you can hear the rhythm choir of a thousand black children
singers.
That’s my town.
Isn’t great.
I’ll show you the strangest kid I know.
Purple, red, fast and yellow.
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