Married Monk Holiday
my sleeping toys are ready for another kick
they'll get some glue, some paste and a string
and soon it runs in my head
slowly I feel like a dunce...on holyday
my sleeping book is ruined under the rain
I'll get some glue, some paste and a mare
my hand is close to that figure
slowly I feel like a dunce... on holyday
chasing a flee with a charming solid knife
nails in the sand stuck to my feet
my clock is gone the weather rides a bike
a stab a nudge staight to my chops
and now it runs in my head
slowly I feel like dunce... on holyday
on holyday
