I untie my shoes and I begin to run
The strings of my bass guitar are dreadlocks of that singer from middle school
who I liked a lot
On the package insert
it's explicitly written
to tell everyone to fuck off every so often
With my train money,
I won't go meet you anymore
I regret nothing
I'll pay for a French course, uuh
I'll marry a tree
We'll make flower children
There exists no right or wrong
with the roots in the heart
I'll love a tree
We'll make flower children,
and I'll harvest the fruits
of our better days
I lie down upon a bench
like a cat alone in the sun,
speaker and snare in my ears
Time is moving a bit backwards
It does what it wants
I'll marry a tree
We'll make flower children
There exists no right or wrong
with the roots in the heart
I'll love a tree
We'll make flower children,
and I'll harvest the fruits
of our better days
No, I don't remember how it is
to turn back, then I'll get lost
Where's the sheet now? (oh)
'cause unfortunately there's no magic wand
The African sun warms me
not the trench coat (ah)
'cause we're taken badly compared to other artists (yeah)
but when we play here, it's like an eclipse (uh)
Just turn up the volume in the car
if your heart wasn't pre-made in a factory
I'll marry a tree
We'll make flower children
There exists no right or wrong
with the roots in the heart
I'll love a tree
We'll make flower children,
and I'll harvest the fruits
of our better days
I'll marry a tree
We'll make flower children
There exists no right or wrong
with the roots in the heart
I'll love a tree
We'll make flower children,
and I'll harvest the fruits
of our better days