Lyrics:
the city, had grown tiresome At least when your fingers are going through dry sand Antipodean anti-ipod Living on different algorithm Not connected
spouts Tortures him, in big house Says we need more seconds his grin is elf Aids joke cD Antipodean, upside down Percussionist retched grin is elf She
antipodean now This ain’t Magnum it’s me Seeing it’s typical, when it’s visible You notice it and wanting regard, you make a din Hoping when I’m writing my
I know you don't deserve this By the time I've heard this, I'll be far, far Just another antipodean But to Americans, I'm an alien Dyed his hair
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