Nice, nice, nice, nice
Nice, nice, nice, nice
I was blunt and totally out of it since the very first day,
Already young, not enough momentum for a rat race
At eight years in first grade - two times.
Hoodie, midsummer, 30 degrees.
I ain't gonna accept this role,
Showing off on a skateboard
Not gonna flip, not gonna lift
Taking tips from a chequebook
Being a street pooch with red eyes and white teeth
The male dogs gonna growl,
The female dogs gonna long for me
Straying through the cities, roaming, while others are running
Sleeping under bridges, not knowing anything, not naming anything
The world explodes, I celebrate those colours
Flippancy freed, equally being eternally poor
Blunt and totally out of it
But more like nice, so
Flippancy freed, we're flying high, so high
Next to the fine printed texts of the Garden Club
My brain takes in the fancily set table cloth
My mind switches to the food bank, wearing out silk as well as paste
The kids are screamin', the pettifogging parent's screeching n' crying
The table is set plentily, but it tastes mouldly,
I pull away the table cloth: "Ha, bite me there!"
Servin' time and the strict schedule splits like glass,
The clock bursts away and far like broken glass
My time, my dance, on silky ropes
My permanent damages, my self-floating, my no,
my "Wait man, I still need some time 'til I get it all",
Until then, I'll stay blunt and totally out of it.
Blunt and totally out of it,
But more like nice, so
Flippancy freed, we're flying high, so high. This track is for all
those frightened deadbeats and ticks for bottle gatheres and
hedge hobos with flaws,
for all those dirty pubs with greasy darts and fancy blunts.
Raise your hand, threaten the mighty man!
For those seemingly failed ones, which have gotten much farther by now,
than those living corpses that get off of them.
For those who are not important, who haven't been struck by a needle,
But still don't get their duties, giants screwing that flashlight,
We bring those colours to life, like gleams on a blunt wallpaper,
Let those build-savers speak, we want to float like astronauts,
You can wait, if you like, and pray for your next life,
We'll make this earth shake
Blunt and totally out of it,
But more like nice, so
Flippancy freed, we're flying high, so high. Very nice.