The Books
The Future, Wouldn’t That Be Nice
C'est dégueulasse. C'était terrible
The west is dead and it's burning, the rest are red and they're burning
It's the noon of the leaving bread, the world is wood
I cry, I cry... knows, knows, knows, knows, knows, knows, oh, oh, oh, what is it, what is it? The tip of her tongue, we kissed
My mind has a mind of its own. This dream will end if I let it. My mind has a mind of it's own. Wrong we go
What's that song, Nick?
Jingle Bells
Jingle Bells, again?
Jing jing jingle, jing jingle
That was a good one, Row Row Row Your Boat
The west is dead and it's burning, the rest are red and they're burning
It's the noon of the leaving bread, the world is wood
My mind has a mind of its own
My mind has a mind of its own
My mind has a mind of its own
My mind has a mind of its own