Låttexter
We're leaving for Spain in the spring
Colors here seem like a scam
Catalonian air is too warm for those
Unending exams
My eyes they are flooded with scenes
From a life without scars
Got kicked in the head more than once
By those mad and funny old souls
The city is like
The Day Of The Dead
And cherry blossom
Is over my head
I gaze at the sky down here
Cause a disc appeared in the blue
The web it is weird on the head
When I think it's probably true
And Spain it is like
The day of a saint
And Orions Belt
Is over my head
The city is like The Day Of The Dead