Текст: Beck. . 000. 000.

....twilight...? ? ? ?
I've seen your place before, I've tread thid field ? ? ?
I bought a plastic light, my separate ceiling blade
My city to the scope, my ? ? ? ? spokes
My ? ? ? ?
But she'll never never know
My ? ? has a ? ? ?

? ? ?
? ? ?
I come from lots of? ? ? ?
My very modest tricks
My pricks and belly rose (? )
My operation blows

? ? ?
My big pollution grows
I never spoke of flood
My ? ? ? ? ?
? ? ? ? ? ? .....

(aaarrgghh!!! okay, I give up for now; this may not be right, but at least I tried!
I'm sure it will all come to me in a dream one night with
A man on a flaming pie clearly spouting the words to this
Song. I'll get back with you.....deborah)