An astronaut and a witch
travel in a bubble towards the sun,
that fire that grew...
If the detergent is heated
and what they feel bursts
they can lose control,
and also the connection,
certainty or illusion
epidermal fiction.
He believes in spaceships
and in special effects
which he never verified
that in his fucking life he saw...
She practices with brooms
he sees the future in a ball
that a hanged man sold her
and also convinced her
of her inner power
that cardboard magic....
And in the air, they pray
drops of love
drops of love....
Pom pom po rom pom pom
Pom pom po rom pom pom
Pom pom po rom pom pom
Pom pom po rom pom pom
The lazy man plays with the idea
of creating a great system
that allows another fusion
another type of value...
But the witch contains him
and guesses what he wants
because he already went and returned
to the hell of terror
to that gluttonous world
that eats your heart...
Sometimes it happens that the fever
rises mysteriously
and goes away without reason,
like every apparition...
Eh, a burst bubble
no longer means anything
and dejected they both go
without belief or religion
moving away from the sun
in the opposite direction....
An eternal return
to the emptiness, to the emptiness...
An eternal return
to the emptiness, EMPTY...
LIFE IS NEVER SO PRECISE < br/>NO ONE HAS THAT FIXTURE
WHICH TAKES YOU OFF THE HEAP
AND SHOWS YOU SOMETHING BETTER...
NEITHER THE ASTRONAUT NOR THE WITCH
KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT GUILT
AND THE FEAR THAT LEFT THEM
HIS SIDERAL DISCONNECTION....
Pom pom po rom pom pom
Pom pom po rom pom pom
Pom pom po rom pom pom
Pom pom po rom pom pom
And in the air, they pray
drops of love
drops of love...
Pom pom po rom pom pom
Pom pom po rom pom pom
Pom pom po rom pom pom
Pom pom po rom pom pom

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