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Master of Peanuts by Death To the 70's
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Master of Peanuts It's me. Incomprehensible but it runs. Still the blood goes arround my veins. But in this heart the fever has reached an empty space. Has reached an empty space. In these eyes A mistery remains. We are less safe than peanuts that are kept in monkey's mouth. We're kept in monkey's mouth. While we die Where we fly? Will we find a reason why? My desire Does it die? Will I find a better lie? Shall we find a better lie? Shall we find a better chance to know a master of peanuts again? Faster than eagles Disaster of tribes Master of people Labyrinth of pillow You master of peanuts again!!!

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