Vārdi: Peter Von Poehl. May Day. Carrier Pigeon.

Sleepwalkers standing
On marshy ground;
They won?t fall if you don?t wake them up.
The icicles on the old jugde?s beard,
Won?t tell him what he?s guilty of.
The mummy and the ghost
Making a special toast,
Drinking through Saturday ?
His last dance is almost over,
A menu with no choice;
He didn?t raise his voice.
A carrier pigeon
Lost a message on its way.
Fighting a lion ? his executioner ?
making silver ripples for the audience.
A wasteland would be the only nest for a
bird that tries to fool the rules.
He never did no wrong;
He stayed a bit too long.
Small change could buy him time
And a princess in a magazine.
She sure put on some weight,
But people still think she?s great.
A carrier pigeon
Lost a message on its way.
An evil witch told him about the club,
But he was only searching
For the perfect rhyme.
He never cared to jump on
The donkey?s back,
And the bouncer is the first
To stand in line.

(Merci a Leon DUONER pour cettes paroles)