You know the moon on Saturday evening?
I mean the real one, I mean the real one
You know the stars, the Twin Towers?
Those that don't exist anymore, those that don't exist anymore
And if I talk to you about soccer
And if I play you a little bit of banjo
You say I'm depressed, that I'm not within the context, that I smell of fungus
But if I take you to the woods
You tell me 'take me to the (city) center'
Because there, there isn't any reception, then you lose your mind like last time
We are the army of the selfie
Of those that get tanned with an iPhone
But we don't have contacts anymore
Only a like for another post
But I miss you, I miss you, I miss you in flesh and blood
I miss you in my list
of things that I don't have, that I don't have, that I don't have
You know, the night of Saturday evening?
I mean the black one, I mean the black one
You know, the people that run around in underwear?
You tell me that they don't exist anymore, you tell me that they don't exist anymore
And if I talk to you about sex
Rock, paper or scissors
You say I'm depressed, that I'm not within the context, that I smell of fungus
But if I take you to the park
You tell me 'take me to the (city) center'
Because there, there isn't any reception, then you lose your mind like last time
We are the army of the selfie
Of those that get tanned with an iPhone
But we don't have contacts anymore
Only a like for another post
But I miss you, I miss you, I miss you in flesh and blood (I miss you in flesh and blood)
I miss you in my list (I miss you in my list)
of things that I don't have, that I don't have, that I don't have (that I don't have)
We are the army of the selfie
Of those that get tanned with an iPhone
But we don't have contacts anymore
Only a like for another post
But I miss you, I miss you, I miss you in flesh and blood (I miss you in flesh and blood)
I miss you in my list (I miss you in my list)
of things that I don't have, that I don't have, that I don't have (that I don't have)