And the mysteries of love are not for us
It's the little things that are tearing us up
As the telephone emits a brittle sigh
Only one of us will reach it in time
What are you not telling me?
What are you not telling me?
As I blow away the dandelion clock
Will the miracle reveal itself?
Like an amateur under the sickle moon
Did I give away control too soon?
Just bred for the birds in second hand furs
An occasional touch, an occasional word
No the mysteries of love are not for us
It's the little things that are tearing us up
What are you not telling me?
What are you not telling me?
What are you not telling me?
What are you not telling me?
Greito maisto valgykloj "uzkalnieciai" susitinka bulkute, sasyskyte ir buterbrodukas. Ateina jiems skundziasi surainis, desrainis ir falafelainis, kad ju niekas nenori. Buterbrodukas sako: mes irgi ne madoj. Surainis: - tai kada sugrisim i mada?
Susitinka ziemkentys, jarube ir aruodas.
Pamato veipintoja, startupininka ir omfgoda.
Ei jus naujadarai, dinkit is musu tautosakos, negadinkit musu jotvingavotu baltu saknu. Naujadarai susizvalgo: Mes nerusai, mes is anglisko interneto ir jusu draugai!