Lately, lately, I find I rush. Can't piece together the sun in the sky or the spots on my face.
And I must be stuck, my feet already are, I must be lost, my feet already are, And I must be fast, my feet already are, you'll soon be dust your deeds already are,
Chorus:
You'll soon be dust your deeds already are, You saw no orb no fiery bushes either, I must be drunk I feel unsteady, No monster me, sadly no saint either... Walk back into Stockholm - Stockholm - our travels take us further north, where there's fish in the sea and food on the shelves. And I must be cold, my feet already are, You must be old, so take it easier, And I must be cold, my feet already are, You must be old, so take it easier...
[chorus]
Walk back into, walk back into, wicked, wicked, wicked... Belly, belly, and slap I love to feel the food in my guts and the fat in my veins.