Bangkok on a sunny day The rain has washed the blood away Thousand of veins left in the streets But I can't wash away the red points On the sheets of the hotels And the cheap rooms Of the cheap whores Under palm trees Under palm trees
My brain is running in circles now I gotta cure the pain somehow There's a coloured cloud in front of sun And a face is trying to cheat me And to take away the fun
And the killer troups of the DEA Have just brought my friend away In the stuff that dreams are made of In the stuff that dreams are made of Stuff that dreams are made of Hey, hey, hey!
Stuff that dreams are made of Stuff that dreams are made of Hey, hey, hey! Stuff Stuff that dreamsAre made of...