In the plains of the Commodock, Acabour of the animal Kingdom
You look at the corpses, you regret the macadam
Torrential rains that remind you of a motto chanted in Vietnam
Our is not to do or die, our is to smoke and stay high

In the motu
In the motu
In the motu

The pale night, the night falling, not a woman in sight
You wonder how you will fare, at the mercy of the red birds
Then suddenly, it comes back to you, a secret so well kept
Our is not to do or die, our is to smoke and stay high

In the motu
Love in the motu
In the motu

[?]

Tonight in the motu
Tonight in the motu
Tonight in the motu
Tonight in the motu

Matmos
Matmos
Matmos
Matmos
Linda Napalm left us, at the end of the hall a vahine
Monoi vapor, dilated eye, and suddenly starts to sing
In the motu it is so warm you feel your aura beginning to elevate
Our is not to do or die, our is to smoke and stay high