Bjork The Comet Song
With our fingers we make million holes
We ran and we fell into potholes
On a mission to savor the world
Aahhiahh… We peek at the sky through tree holes
Comet! Oh, damn it! The Comet comes hurtling down
On our precious plot of earth.
Like the bugs in Mother’s flower bed
We walk on long legs over the seabed
On our mission to save the world.
Aahhiahh…We need milk and cakes and a warm bed.
Comet! Oh, damn it! The Comet comes hurtling down
On our precious plot of earth.
Grey leaves are too much for any mother to handle.
A father must pull his black hat down over the eyes.
