ANOTHER 10 DAYS WORK - VOL. 2

 

TOO BIG FOR ME

It's sad to say but all I see is you do

All you can

In spite of work you make it always wrong

It's what you can

So give up

 

You'd better give it up and find a thing that I could find too big for me

You'd better give it up and find the coolest thing on earth, the thing to be. 

 

E.W.

They have been created to be used in their whole holy sense

Expressive words have been created to be used as a lance

 

Don't mean the same, don't mean profane

Not used in vain, emphasized brain

 

And my tongue is slipping in spite of me

Self-control often abandons me

My regard is falling to pieces

Last in line, spoken solemnity

 

COLORADO

Gimme something that I used to know

And I'll surely ignore it all

Gimme somewhere where I used to live

Where I forgot the places

Tell it could be Colorado

 

Gimme someone that I used to love

Surely won't ignore it all

Gimme someone that I used to love

Maybe forgot the places

Surely won't be Colorado

 

I could recall

The heat on the shoulders, a time

Not the most significant time

 

COLD SWEAT

I put my body in a cold, cold sweat

Live my life like I am under arrest

I put my body in a cold, cold sweat ... you know it's hot

 

I put my baby in a cold, cold sweat

She burns the stairs at every move she makes

I put my baby in this cold, cold sweat ... you know it's fun

 

You're a body (you're a body)

You're the sweat (because you're)

Sweating from my every depth

Cause your body (your whole body)

And your sweat

Let me with a lemon taste

 

You put me baby in a cold, cold sweat

You keep me freezing near the ice box set

You lock me in and let my body enslaved ... you know it's tough

 

DESERT HIGHWAY

There's a man roaming near down the road

There's another guy, here alone

"Seat a while, in the dark, hey, my lord

Hear the voices now, the untold

You're the one I believe, receptive

Near asleep because you don't know my name

And will never see me again."

 

HEADS UP

Paint bombs to them, hear the sound of a smell

In between scale, concentrate on the cell

Learn it by heart, recite poor hymn of waste

Follow the recipe, melt flavour and taste

 

Rats in the cellar with bottles and chests

Once in a decade hear smell of these rests

Awaiting the sundays, awaiting the days

Poverty is to not being allowed to lonely days

 

Heads up, count the lines above

Heads up, cross the lines