Teksty piosenek Agents of Good Roots

Agents of Good Roots

One Strange Land

One strange land

Was built from the sea

Put a crown to the castle

No strange land

Could break the glass

That cuts all the cats down

I heard the captains voice

No choice to listen up

To your masses

I heard the captain's voice

Like a whistle in the breeze

I'm going to the coast of Manhattan

With a bag full of blues

And a yellow canary

Captain he spoke

In a voice from the Ivory Coast

Saying there's no passion in perfection

My son

Pull the flag down

Let dust settle back

On the rose-colored glasses

Pull the flag down

And watch it whistle in the breeze

One last hope that lies

Like a monkey that flies

To the scent of molasses

One last hope that lies

I watch it whistle to the Bees