helicopters hovering above my head and the sound of bells, and horns, and bikes. A smiley face, a friend? I see the multicoloured patterns, the trails of all this movement, people, people people people, chances. And as I sing this wave of craze she looks at me behind her glasses. A pound in my hat. A pound a minute, good business. My heels compose a steady pulse, the rhythm of this river. I dive in it. I'm upside down and down sideup and I move sideways gently pulled by arms and legs and bums, from hand to hand. And I sing "you are approaching the end of the conveyer, you are approaching the end of the conveyer".
I hear them laughing, ha ha ha, a bit more in my hat. And with their laughter I am catapulted right inside their hearts. And now we're one. Proficiency in laughter, in hunger, in soledad. That's the language we all have. No need to guess, to think 'did I get it right?', we cut the shit from heart to heart.
Drops of rain ruin my make up. And so they disappear one by one. Puddles sound the rain the heels, a drum machine that makes me sing. chacachacachacachaca ole chacachachaca ole. I'm just another traveller in the train.
I hear them laughing, ha ha ha, a bit more in my hat. And with their laughter I am catapulted right inside their hearts. And now we're one. Proficiency in laughter, in hunger, in soledad. That's the language we all have. No need to guess, to think 'did I get it right?', we cut the shit from heart to heart.
Drops of rain ruin my make up. And so they disappear one by one. Puddles sound the rain the heels, a drum machine that makes me sing. chacachacachacachaca ole chacachachaca ole. I'm just another traveller in the train.
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