After the jolly my question side-journey is, shall I still sigh?
Under the crust in the breast of the blast-furnace armaments cry.
Deep in the wildfire, away from the canyons a track's wiggling dry.
Thence, catching up with the runaway sun, leave the forces of my
ay-yay-yay-yay-yair and fye-yie-yie-yie-yire (x2)
Honeydew wines and the winds from the mountains taking me high,
cinder of plastic and ashes of cardboard bestrewn far and nigh,
drunken and swearing, puking, collapsing and standing up wry,
thence, catching up with the runaway sun, leave the forces of my
ay-yay-yay-yay-yair and fye-yie-yie-yie-yire (x2)
Sun-heated stones are wearing me out, for all my snake eye.
Common enough, my next line is demanding a rhyme with the sky.
Hopeless kind, we need fire support for the caught in the rye.
Thence, catching up with the runaway sun, leave the forces of my
ay-yay-yay-yay-yair and fye-yie-yie-yie-yire (x2)
...geez in a bicycle, espuma de champagne (x2)...
Original: altwall.net/texts.php?show=tequilajazzz&number=39909
Original/audio: kroogi.com/player/iframe/365250?locale=en
Original/video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=9TGeLnP7KHc
Original/video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=5PCWiKd8DGQ (unplugged)