It's a left ramp, a dirt road there is a cul-de-sac That you will see if you do nothing but look to the right Your little heart must let the clutch go
It looks like nothing that you know it's not even on the map Some grass and some sleeping birds in hammocks A house with four walls smeared with the storm
You don't understand What we're doing here Too bad for you Anyway we're not waiting for you To devise
There is the sea and boats shaken by the undertow There are bridges where big trees push through the cracks Children in the big banners planting seashells
We can shout there as much as we want and there's no one antagonizing When it gets dark we warm up in the silence of slaps In the morning we drink from words we steal the pages
You don't understand What we're doing here Too bad for you Anyway we're not waiting for you To devise
And our madness will be big and our memory will be long And our madness will be big and our memory will be long And our madness will be big and our memory will be long And our madness will be big and our memory will be long And our madness will be big and our memory will be long