This is not a love zong
Go go go go
Always in my head
stop stop stop
always sounds it back
Echoe of words
unknown and true
look at the shirts
flying down my valley of dreams
River is a love zong
taking drain down the sea
a hook of tounge-bong
raked of my river's shoulder
Zong is floating red
fishes not even to fly within
despite there are words wet
in colonies of spells
Spell is the true
word is the truth
water's not blue
and one is driving the stream
One is dead
or still alive
his arm's flead
what is rolling down the river
River called Love Zong
not with S but with Z
Like the one you called Viet-Cong
a river indeed
So thats why there is no Love Zong
cos no river called so
this is only a query word tounge
so you're not down the river
You are not in the stream
Your arms didnt fly
like to wink for your helpness
because down your arms you're still dry
Thatz why there is no love song
Never you'll find river's red
Thatz why you're totally wrong
there is no burning bed
This is not a love song
I can tell you how
my Valley of the Vietcong
became grown by trees now
So my dreamshirts cannot fly
never reach the ground
They get caught by branches
and never make a sound
12.12.2004,
Kosake
Anmelden
FAQ
Suche
