I've forgotten all the presents
And the papers fly in streets
From nowhere to the 7-11 doors

Through the turnstile of the supermarket
I'm lifted by a trunk in tin-foil
that's b___ing me back on my feet

Nothing can be like this wind
It blows so sweet
The elephant Fritz burns his feet
And then I wake up to find out
all the things that please me are forgotten
How do I get there from here?

Nothing like this burning wind
It takes your soul
It flies away
And I hope you'll never find out it's about time
that me and the elephant are leaving
But how do we get there from here?

How do I get there from here?

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