our times of disaster - migala lyrics
all the girls on these times of disaster want a party i’m not able to give, so i learn every night some new clapping and dancing and the comp-ss measure is the show
when it would be so easy to give me a cure at night: some heat, some strength, near the dance floor. just the softest 3 by 4 and you moving the head. no fear. no blankets. no pills. a hymn, yes
all the girls on these times of disaster want a party i’m not able to give, so i learn every night some new clapping and dancing and the comp-ss measure is the show
then it always comes the morning and it’s sometimes really quiet but always full of echoes of you. the newspaper speaking noisy and the countdown of parent’s wake. the shout of a life that it’s silly and foul
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