Lyrics:

As the silverbullet finds the moose
and tragic tragic, clips a lip
I don't want to be up tune
A reason find it her shape-a-hip
I guess that is through which, which which
which for you to choose
A choice of voice
on a sexy veil
As a tipple steed duck
A tattooed goose
As forgetting when, but knowing how

Okay

Let her call you and finds a party to booze
He's so clever and he sighs
about lost love, lost face in man that booze
and minds between a woman’s thighs
The logic and the schizophrenia
There the pope that might break down
Oh come on, it is all and one too many her
Decay was my own cake
and brown was just a colour to her
Just a colour to her

I am red and yellow, that's a habit of mine
So meet my shaking hamster
You see a rainbow ain't no sunshine
and a wheelchair ain't no bremser

'Cause as the silverbullets finds the moose
And tragic tragic, clips a lip
I do not want to be up choose
A reason find it her shake-a-hip

It's just a colour to her