Idioma Origen:
It´s a bit like a trip, but you hit it with a slip of a tongue, like a whip, and we´re sinking, it ain´t
cool to be cool, though you may think it a laudable tool of self evaluation, of ego cultivation, n´ I´m
rolling my eyes like the stones for the lies, is it really all about the size or just a simple vice...
Oh, and it makes the news
Oh, cos it sings the blues
I feel the fire flare alight inside me
Higher so I can see
N´ aspire to survive this fight in spite of
Liars and travesty
Oh fire
Did you think that I´d blink, that I´d go and take the ink to your control, that I´d sell my soul, and
does it ring any bells that it sells that we´re living out of shells in a shotgun, if we couldn´t shoot,
we´d have to run, and finally the cerebral fantasy, better genes and machines, so we can die looking like
we´re teens, like snapshot scenes in smithereens...
Oh, and the ones we choose
Oh, witch hunting fools
I feel the fire...
Look there it is in the news again, yeah
There it goes singing the blues again
Fire flare alight inside me...
Fire, return my joy cos I´m so
Tired, tired of me
Inspire the weary eyed to see the
Ire and Irony
Oh fire
Idioma Destino:
It´s a bit like a trip, but you hit it with a slip of a tongue, like a whip, and we´re sinking, it ain´t
cool to be cool, though you may think it a laudable tool of self evaluation, of ego cultivation, n´ I´m
rolling my eyes like the stones for the lies, is it really all about the size or just a simple vice...
Oh, and it makes the news
Oh, cos it sings the blues
I feel the fire flare alight inside me
Higher so I can see
N´ aspire to survive this fight in spite of
Liars and travesty
Oh fire
Did you think that I´d blink, that I´d go and take the ink to your control, that I´d sell my soul, and
does it ring any bells that it sells that we´re living out of shells in a shotgun, if we couldn´t shoot,
we´d have to run, and finally the cerebral fantasy, better genes and machines, so we can die looking like
we´re teens, like snapshot scenes in smithereens...
Oh, and the ones we choose
Oh, witch hunting fools
I feel the fire...
Look there it is in the news again, yeah
There it goes singing the blues again
Fire flare alight inside me...
Fire, return my joy cos I´m so
Tired, tired of me
Inspire the weary eyed to see the
Ire and Irony
Oh fire