Roaming the streets of a dream
Rising and lowering bars
And there is no need for shrinks
When there is whiskey in the jar
The head of a messy land
The kids of a reign forlorn
That walks like a kind on crack
Turning upside down being born
Basil and red peppers driven
As the thieves will turn the crimes
In ports trafficking in kindness
Where the Goths will make the wine
You won’t have to be anything
Once your real mission is thru’
Won´t be identity or negation
You will be nothing...but you
From the bad teeth of the greed
From the north side of the self
Colonise the will to bother
And bothering just oneself
Insolence for own pretence
Remember the motto of ages:
Remember before the blow
And listening to real sages
Any clothes would fit your back
Any name will fit your clothes
When inside you know the carrying
Of a precious mighty rock
Nowhere is the place you are at
And with you everywhere goes
You won’t have to be anything
Once your real mission is thru’
Won´t be identity or negation
You will be nothing...but you
Snakeeskin 